Insidious(71)

“Excuse me?” Car blurted again. “Your life has turned into an episode of Criminal Minds, and I’m only hearing about it now? What the frack, girl?”

“You can’t say anything,” I pleaded.

“Say anything? Why aren’t we doing anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is epic! Like, primetime drama.” A huge smile burst across her face. “We need to start sleuthing, researching, investigating!”

I laughed, more out of disbelief. “You’re excited by stalkers, and I’m the one who’s weird?”

“What can I say? Morbid curiosity. But anyway, get a move on,” she beckoned, pulling me towards her car. “We can start plotting our investigation on the way to school.”

“I…uh, already have a ride,” I winced, hearing the low grumble of the old beater before the truck even came into sight.

Carly’s eyes widened as Reese pulled up to the curb, but she clamped her mouth shut and nodded. “Have room for one more?”

Reese gawked at Carly for a long moment like she was an alien life form. “Sorry?”

“Can. I. Join. You?” she pronounced, deliberately slow. If she had any reservations, she clearly wasn’t showing it. In fact, there was a teasing quality in her voice.

Reese gave me a sideways glance and laughed under his breath. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get scarier.”





After the events of last night, from the hooded stalker in the parking lot to that kiss in the kitchen, I had actually been dreading the ride, knowing full well of the awkward silence that would ensue. And that’s precisely why Carly wound up being a godsend for the second time this morning. So long as she was around, there was no such thing as quiet. Reese’s truck only had one row of seats, but it was more of a cushioned bench, which allowed all three of us to sit up front. And it didn’t go ignored by either Reese or me as our thighs brushed against one another’s as I took my place in the middle. We both stiffened. Yeah, this was going to be awkward regardless.

By the time we made it to Main Street, Carly had already come up with our sleuthing team nickname, which apparently was “BLT,” as in Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato. I wasn’t sure who was supposed to be who…or how the hell that had anything to do with sleuthing, but I was too afraid to ask.

“Oh, could you stop here?” asked Carly as we turned onto the side street leading to the school. “I know we’re a team now, but a girl does have to save face. No offense, but the guys would never let me hear the end of it if I rolled up with you two stone-cold weirdos.” She was still giddy as she hopped out of the cabin.

Reese just shook his head.

“She takes some getting used to,” I chuckled.

“You might as well join her,” he sighed, tossing on a black fedora.

“Reese-”

He shrugged. “What? I’m just afraid she might forget where she’s going. Not sure if you noticed during our delightful drive just now, but she’s kind of A.D.D. The girl might wind up at the mall if you leave her unattended.”

“I can still hear you!” called out Car from the sidewalk.

“I intended you to,” Reese shot back.

“On that note…” I climbed out and joined Carly as she waved a dismissive, perfectly polished hand at him.

“I swear if my phone rings again…” Carly growled, prying the device out of her purse. The damn thing had been vibrating nonstop as it sat between us during the entire car ride.

At the same time, I could feel mine go off. It appeared both of our phones had been guilty, because thirty new text messages had flooded into my cell over the past ten minutes. We didn’t need to open them. The moment we rounded the bend to the front of the school, we had our answer. Spotlights, camera crews, reporters, police cars, and men in blue drenched the entire entrance. The chaos of everyone trying to talk above the commotion only made it harder to understand what anyone was saying.

“Déjà voodoo,” muttered Car. She had told me all about the media hype surrounding the Hersey bus disappearance, and this looked like a snapshot right out of her retelling. Only worse.





Chapter 19

The Kill





Brutality.

Carnage.

Horror.

They were just the handful of words I managed to make out amongst the clamor. Carly’s fingers interlocked with mine as her other hand clamped itself around my arm. Any amusement she had a moment ago was gone. We pushed our way through the throng of people, and we were forced to duck as one of those microphone boom poles whizzed past us from an eager film crew member.

I shuddered, seeing Channel 5’s Rebecca Weathers standing in front of the steps leading into the building with a camera primed right on her. She’d done more than her fair share covering my accident, implying on more than one occasion that I was likely under the influence of an unspecified substance. Even now I wanted to punch in those fake porcelain teeth of hers.