To Catch a Killer

“Step over here and I’ll reunite you with your friends.”

Spam and I cling to each other and take small steps closer to the back of the van. Principal Roberts swings open the back doors, revealing Victor and Journey slumped inside. Both of their eyes are closed.

I let out a yelp and start toward them.

“Not so fast,” Principal Roberts says, raising the gun. “Come and sit on this bumper where I can take care of you properly.”

I sidestep toward the van. Spam clutches my arm so hard she’s squeezing the life out of it, and yet she stubbornly refuses to lift her feet. I’m dragging her along just to keep moving. I shift my gaze between Victor and Principal Roberts. Then I steal a glance at Journey and my heart drops. A trickle of blood outlines the side of his face.

“Are they dead?” Spam worries. “Are they? You’ve got to tell me.”

Almost everything I care about is right here—almost.

Except for Rachel and Lysa.

We have to make it out of this. If for no other reason than for Rachel. She can’t go through something like this again.

Spam and I help each other hop up onto the bumper of the van. I glance over my shoulder at Victor. His eyes flutter open and link to mine. He pinches his lips together, a silent signal for me to stay quiet.

Principal Roberts picks up a pair of industrial-strength plastic zip ties, already looped together like handcuffs. “Let’s see those hands, little lady.”

I stick my hands out in front of me. A sob catches in my throat. How can he do this using the pet name he always had for me?

“Behind,” he orders.

I put my hands behind me and he tightens the loops around my wrists. Next he moves behind Spam. “Reach back and stick your hands through here,” he orders.

She complies, but clenches her fists and extends her middle finger on both hands. He yanks on the ends, tightening the loops around her wrists.

“Not so tight, a-hole,” she says.

“Oh, Samantha, really? Your mouth is atrocious,” he says.

“And your mouth looks like a cat’s butt,” she retorts.

“You’re disgusting,” Mr. Roberts says.

“Bite me,” Spam replies.

I’m happy to hear the famous Spam spitfire attitude. We’re going to need it, plus every bit of guts and bravado I can muster to get out of this alive. I notice how he keeps the gun trained on me nearly the whole time and I decide that’s something I can work with.

“So, what’s the deal, Mr. Roberts? You say you’re my dad but now you want to kill me. That’s not very fatherly.”

“Don’t go there, Erin,” Victor says from inside the van. “And whatever you do, don’t make any deals with him. You can’t trust him.”

I’m relieved to hear Victor speak. He sounds okay. But his hands are bound behind his back and his feet are lashed together, too.

“Aww, Vic,” Principal Roberts says. “You always thought you were better than me. It must’ve hurt when she chose me over you.”

“Let the kids go, Carl,” Victor says. “If this is about Sarah, we can keep it between you and me.”

Sarah? What are they saying?

Principal Roberts shoves his gun right into our faces. “Erin. Samantha. Now scoot back into the van and stick your feet out so I can bind them, too.”

“How do you think this is going to end, Carl?” Victor asks. “Someone is going to figure this out.”

Out of the corner of my eye I can tell he’s working to get out of the bindings.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Principal Roberts says. Using one hand and his teeth, he loops two more cable ties together. His other hand keeps the gun on me. “I’ve thought this through.” He sweeps the gun briefly toward Journey. “I’m going to pin everything on that poor, crazy young man over there. His father’s a murderer, too.”

“Shut up,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”

“They won’t be lies when I’m done,” Principal Roberts says. “Murder-suicide events happen every day.”

I hate him with every pore in my body. I couldn’t disguise it if I had to.

“They’ll find your bodies here on his property. You’ll be tied up and he won’t. There’ll be a note,” he says. “What else do they need?”

“Some evidence, maybe, or a motive?” I add a sneer to my voice.

“Yeah. Not so much,” Mr. Roberts says. “Especially not with Victor gone, too. The Iron Rain PD tries, but as you know, they don’t have a crime lab. Most of their evidence just sits in a box for years. It really hurt to have to get rid of Laura Peters, but unfortunately she left me no choice. She ruined everything with that DNA test of hers.”

My head is spinning and this is coming at me faster than I can process it. The only thing I know to do is to stall for time. “You should have been more careful with your trophies,” I say.

He casually steps back, a cool customer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But his voice thins.

“Really?” I taunt. “You don’t remember dropping a blue-and-white strip of fabric?”

“Oh, so you found that, did you?” he asks.

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