Chapter Eleven
Sonya was still half-asleep when Aron dropped her off at school. She had not slept well the night before, worried that the message was some mean prank. Before leaving for school, she had sent a copy of Robin’s report on The Church to Cal.
Sonya entered the school, security guards thick on the grounds and hallways. She received no stares as she made a beeline for the library.
The librarian was at the counter, a security guard close by. Sonya walked between rows of books before finding a table inhabited by even one student. When she came upon a table in a back row, she found four figures, wearing identical black ski masks, heads covered by hoods.
Sonya almost rolled her eyes, but kept a straight face. “SkolClik?”
One of the figures, a female, rose from the table. “We’re all SkolClik, Woodpecker.”
Sonya heard the chuckles and almost groaned, hating her nickname from The Blue and White, a reference to her red hair. Detective Woodpecker, who unmasked the Ravisher in her backyard.
“Well,” Sonya said, “which one of you saw the car the day Danny was shot?”
“Doesn’t matter,” a boy from the table said.
“Yes, it does. You should come forward, tell the police.”
“The Marine PD won’t find the sniper,” he said. “Just like they didn’t find the Ravisher. You did.”
“Why is the site down? Are you all afraid?”
“We like staying anonymous,” another boy said.
“So...what do you want from me?”
The girl handed her a folder. “I wrote this. I saw the car, the bullet almost hit–“
“That’s enough,” the boy said. “The rest is in that statement.”
“A statement?” Sonya asked. “Did any of you sign it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then it’s not a statement.”
“It’s all we’re offering,” the girl said. “You can give it to the police.”
“I can,” Sonya said, “but a report without witnesses coming forward isn’t much. And then they might track you all down.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then what’s your point?”
“Please take the report,” the girl said. “Maybe it will help.”
“All right.” Sonya took the folder. She turned to leave. “Nice meeting you guys. You know, there are people missing your posts. You might want to get back to work shaming people. It gets boring around here.”
Sonya, with a few minutes left before class started, headed for the cafeteria to find Bobby, the folder tucked under her arm, backpack swinging from one hand. Still in her coat, she stopped in the hallway. She was going to put the pack on the floor, wanting to put the folder inside. Before doing this, she opened the cardboard folder.
A few sheets of blank white paper looked up at her.
She would spend the rest of her school day wondering if she was going to be the subject of a new SkolClik post. She was too embarrassed to tell Bobby, who didn’t know she was meeting with SkolClik. She couldn’t believe their cruelty; people were being murdered, and she wondered if SkolClik was telling the truth about being a witness to Danny’s shooting. If that was the case, then SkolClik was more dangerous than Sonya had imagined.
“Are you kidding me?” Aron asked.
“No, Dad,” Sonya said. “I’m not.”
Sonya had told her father about her day. She wanted to talk to somebody, just not any of her friends.
“Well, these kids set you up,” Aron said. “But why?”
“Just to embarrass me, I guess.”
They sat at the kitchen table. Sonya looked at the beginnings of a new snow storm through the sliding glass doors.
Bill was in the kitchen, trying to help Aron with dinner. He was opening a bag of salad mix, the task keeping him busy. In good weather, he could work in the yard or Aron could take him places. Only in his early sixties, Bill was still vital enough to get bored and restless. Aron would take his brother with him to plow out the driveways of various neighbors and friends, racking up a nice profit over the hard winter.
“They wanted to humiliate me,” Sonya said. “They must think Danny’s murder was a joke. What about Brad and Tyler Jensen? SkolClik was sitting there, in their stupid ski masks, which went unnoticed by the librarian and the security guard. But I know one of them saw the car across the street and a bullet hit the ground.” Sonya sighed. “How long is this going to take, Dad? People like the sniper eventually make a mistake that gets them caught. But where are the eyewitnesses? When Danny was killed, there were enough people outside, but only a few spotted that car before it took off. There were no witnesses at the gas station where that man got shot last night. The place is small, no cameras in the parking lot. Again.”
“Do we have any French dressing?” Bill asked.
“No,” Aron said. “I’ll get some next time at the store.”
“I’ll bet the Diamonds already know who the sniper is,” Bill said.
“That wouldn’t shock me.”
“Would the Diamonds share what they know with the police?” Sonya asked.
“I don’t think so,” Aron said. “Especially with the FBI around.”
“Maybe I could tell Ben Garcia about SkolClik, anyway.”
“I don’t know how much it would help,” Aron said,”but maybe you should.”