Forever.
Mattie watched Kip vanish. Vanish like his biggest problem in the world was a page of forgotten test answers. And Mattie hated him a little for that. He hated him for not being pulled into a room. He hated him for not having to witness a death.
He hated him for not knowing.
And more than anything, Mattie hated Kip because he wanted to be him.
“Someone should go back,” Mattie said, echoing Kinley. “We can’t just leave Dr. Stratford in there to be found by whoever wanders in there. We have to go get him.”
“I’m not going back in there,” Tyler said. His face was almost as pale as the body. “Let the janitor find him and call 911 on his busted ass.”
“And then Kip will know we lied, and he’ll know that we had something to do with it,” Kinley said. She reached out and rested her hand on Tyler’s arm. “We have to go back, Tyler.”
He looked at her. Really looked at her. And then he looked out at the parking lot. He swallowed hard. “Fine,” he said. “But we all go. All of us. No one gets off easy here. If we do this, we do it together.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” Mattie snapped. “I got pulled into that freaking room, but I didn’t touch the guy. Just let me go and I’ll act like I was never here.”
Cade’s eyes glittered. “I don’t know. You touched his neck. Don’t play like your DNA isn’t all over that man.”
“I was trying to help,” Mattie snapped. “I was trying to save him. That’s all Ivy and I were trying to do.”
Beside him, Ivy looped her arm into his and drew him tightly to her. She wanted to leave too. Mattie could tell. Her skin was gray and her lips were drawn.
“That’s funny,” Cade said slowly. “Because Ivy slobbered all over him doing mouth-to-mouth. So both of your DNA is everywhere. All I got in was one quick punch. So I’d say you two look the guiltiest of all.”
“For trying to save him?”
Cade laughed. It was a low, ugly sound. Almost guttural, like it was torn from somewhere deep inside him. His eyes rolled in his head like blank marbles. “If either of you—no, any one of us—if anyone goes to the cops, then we will all hold that person responsible. Got it? That means if one of us narcs—the rest of us will personally ensure that person is held solely accountable for the murder of Dr. Stratford. Do you really want homicide on your record, Mattie?”
Something deep inside Mattie twisted and writhed and went out. “No,” he said, very quietly. Looking at Cade, at his flat, emotionless face, he knew that he’d do it. There was something off about him. Something soulless and strange. “No, I don’t.”
“Then help us. We’re going in there, and we’re going to move the body.”
The hot-cold feeling intensified. But he followed the other four inside. Ivy kept squeezing his arm, but he wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not.
Kinley
Friday, June 12
Kinley half wanted Stratford to be gone when they returned. Just vanished. Or maybe he’d be fine. Maybe Mattie had been wrong about the pulse, and he’d be rolling around, groaning, clutching his head. Maybe he’d be up, walking around, and fail them all for almost killing him.
It was the first time in her life that Kinley wished for an F.
But he wasn’t any of those things.
Stratford was still lying there. Only now his left eye was partly open, and half of the milky white was exposed. Kinley gagged when she saw him.
“There should be more blood,” Ivy whispered into Mattie’s shoulder. “If he’s dead, why isn’t there more blood?”
Mattie shushed her, and Kinley shot her a look. Some people just couldn’t hold it together.
Kinley wasn’t one of those people. She knew she was screwed, but in that knowledge she felt strangely okay. In control. She had the facts, and now she just had to figure out how to arrange them to her advantage.
It was how she lived her life. With facts. Finding the advantages. Making them hers.
Kinley straightened and took a deep breath. “I’ll go keep watch. Tyler, Ivy, grab his arms. Mattie and Cade, his legs. We’re going to get him out of here.”
“What about cameras?” Tyler asked.
Ivy shook her head. “No.” Her voice shook. “They’re being refitted. The new eco-friendly cameras should be in by next week.”
“She’s right,” Kinley said. “Student council voted on it. Now, let’s do this. We’re going to put him in my trunk.”
No one argued. And if it was anyone’s car, it might as well be Kinley’s. No one would ever suspect perfect little narc Kinley to transport a dead body.
And Kinley knew that.
She forced away her revulsion at the idea. “I’m going to go out in the hall,” she said, “and at my signal, you lift.” She pulled her keys out of her bag. “I’m going to pull around.”
She poked her head out into the hallway.
No one was coming.
No footsteps.