THE NEXT MORNING AS I’M walking into school, Catalina calls me. “I finally had that phone call with the leader. With M.”
I wave Daisy on and walk a few paces away. “And?”
“Oh, God, it was the most exciting, inspiring fifteen minutes of my life.”
“Inspiring.” She’d used that word before when talking about the Masked Savior’s vigilante acts. “Is the leader a man or woman?” I ask, praying she says woman. Please let Marji have been M.
“I don’t know. The voice was disguised.”
I inhale a not-so-patient breath. “What did he or she want?”
“I’m not allowed to say anything.” Although I can’t see her, I can tell she’s cringing. “I’m sorry.”
My teeth clench. “When did you have this phone call?” Please say a time before I killed Marji.
“Last night.”
Shit. Which means Marji’s not M. “And you can’t tell me what the phone call was about?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Well, why call me?” I snap.
Silence.
I tune in to the pulse thumping in my neck. I’m done with these games.
“Don’t get that way with me,” Catalina warns.
I narrow my eyes. I’ve never heard that tone in her voice before.
“You need to apologize,” she says.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
She clicks off.
I shove my phone in my pocket and head inside school. Reggie’s mad at me. Catalina’s mad at me. Fine. What was I thinking, trying to have friends?
As I pass by the administrative suite, I see several policemen and women gathered in the office, and I come to a complete stop.
What the hell is going on?
“What do you think that’s all about?” Kyle whispers from my side.
I shake my head. Are they here for me? Did the person who took the knife come forward with details? Heat flashes across my skin. It can’t be.
The bell rings, and I don’t move. Kyle tugs me toward homeroom, giving me an odd look. Stiffly I follow him, and five minutes in, our principal announces we’re on lockdown. My entire body tenses, nerves twitch, and every muscle in me clenches. Are they going to barge in here and handcuff me?
Dogs are brought in to sniff lockers. What are they looking for—don’t dogs sniff for drugs? What do drugs have to do with the Masked Savior and me killing Marji?
Either way, there’s nothing in my locker but books.
My Jeep.
Oh no. My Taser is there. My zip ties. The tranquilizer gun. My ski mask. My cargo pants. It’s all there in a bag hidden in the back.
What was I thinking? I need to ditch all my supplies. There can be nothing tracing me to the Masked Savior.
I flick my eyes to the clock. When will they lift lockdown?
Homeroom comes and goes, and ten minutes into first period the principal announces we can switch classes.
I fight every urge to run and instead make my way to my TA job in the library. Rumors zip through the halls: drugs, weapons, and on and on, but I block them all out. Somehow I need to get out to my Jeep and ditch my kit.
I go straight to Mr. Bealles, the librarian. “I know students are not allowed off campus, but I left my calc homework at home. I can go home and be back before the bell rings.”
He gives me a long study. I’ve never once asked for anything in this place and I’ve never been in trouble, so I highly doubt he’ll suspect an ulterior motive.
“Fine,” he gruffs, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a pass and quickly scribbles his initials on it. “I will not excuse you if you’re late coming back.”
I take the pass and hurry out to my Jeep. I gun it out of the parking lot and race several blocks over to an apartment community. I grab my kit, wipe it down of fingerprints, and throw it in a Dumpster.
I make it back to campus with five minutes to spare and race across the parking lot. Right as I’m reaching for the door, I stop.
The tiny hairs on my arms lift and a creepy shiver tenses my neck. Someone’s watching me. I turn and stare out across the sea of student cars all the way to the road—at least a hundred yards away—and in the shade of a tree stands a person. Man or woman I’m not sure. But in the shadows they seem more tall than short. More skinny than fat. More dark than light.
It reminds me of the night outside of grief group when I saw a person standing on the street.
The person turns and seemingly disappears into the shadows, and my heart pumps a few extra times. That’s no coincidence. That’s my copycat. That’s the person who saw me stab Marji.
I go about the rest of my day. I sit through my classes. I don’t hear a word, though, from teachers, from students. All I can think about is that person. Who is it? Who the hell is following me?
When the final bell rings, I race out to my Jeep. While I wait on Daisy, I get a closer look at that tree and the shadows. Behind it stretches a path that leads through a neighborhood and into a park.
Daisy approaches. “Hey, what are you looking at?”
I climb in my Jeep. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
As we pull from student parking, I see Zach standing off to the side talking to Kyle. Seeing the two of them together strikes me as odd. They both catch sight of my Jeep and give me simultaneous polite smiles.
Daisy waves. “I didn’t know they were friends.”
Me neither. That’s one more thing I have to worry about now. I don’t like Kyle talking to Zach.
We pick Justin up and head straight home. As we walk in the door, there stands Victor, and Catalina’s father—the head of the task force—with Catalina right beside him.
“Justin, Daisy, go to your rooms,” Victor says. He motions the rest of us into the living room. “Let’s all sit down.”
I chance a quick look at Catalina to gauge what the hell is going on, but she’s purposefully avoiding my gaze. Probably because of our little disagreement earlier. My thoughts spiral with why they are both here, but I force myself to stay calm. Focused.
“Last night,” Catalina’s father begins, “there were several incidents in the area. Tragic incidents. Eyewitness reports and evidence point to the Masked Savior as responsible.”
“What incidents?” Catalina interrupts.
“I’m not at liberty to go into details.” He looks between us. “I understand the lure of this thing. Righting a wrong. Taking justice into your own hands. I know both of you have been active members on the site.”
“I’ve only made a few posts,” Catalina says, conveniently leaving out the fact she’s the administrator and that she’s had a phone call with M.
I would leave that out too.
Her dad looks at me. “And you?”
“I had an account and I took it down,” I tell him.
“Most of the people seem harmless, Dad, really.” Catalina looks at me. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
I nod, because really, what am I supposed to say?
“They discuss mostly what the Masked Savior did.” Catalina laughs. “Someone even posted a brownie recipe once. Except one time there was a string about darkest desires. . . .” She looks right at me. “Did you happen to read that string? It was creepy.”
“Yes, I did see a few of those. It was creepy,” I agree, and think about Kyle.
“Well, we’ve been monitoring the site and we know exactly what’s getting posted. The members do seem young,” he tells us. “Some things we read prompted us to do a sweep of all the high schools today.”
Now that I think about it, with the profile, I’m surprised they hadn’t done that sooner.
“Did you find anything?” Catalina asks.
“Again, not at liberty to say. But I wanted to meet with you girls personally. First, I don’t want either one of you on that site again. Second, if you hear anything around school or your friends, you need to tell one of us”—he nods at Victor—“immediately. Okay?”
Catalina nods.
“Yes,” I say.
Victor sees them out, and after he closes the door, he turns to me. “Is there anything you’re not telling me?”
“No, sir. I’m not hiding anything.”