“Thanks,” I said. He ruffled my hair. I had a feeling Madison might have hated it if someone ruined her hair like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
Long after he left, I still stood there, clutching the little gold pendant.
Sometimes glimpses of the past flashed in my mind. A time when my brother and father had lived with my mother and me. A time of laughter and happiness. I couldn’t even say if they were memories or figments of my imagination.
I closed the door and turned the lock. Madison’s face stared back at me from the mirror on the door. I shut my eyes, though it wasn’t necessary for the shift. The familiar rippling washed over me. Bones lengthened. Sinews stretched. Face reshaped. But there was a tentativeness to the shift that shouldn’t have been there, like the stutter of an old engine before it starts to purr.
The sensation died down, and I risked a look at my reflection. And it was all wrong. I’d tried so many times to shift into my dad in order to see his face, to hear his voice and help me remember, but it was a useless struggle. The data had been washed away, as faded and distorted as my memories in years gone by.
Whatever I’d turned into resembled a badly done figure from Madame Tussauds. Skin waxen, eyes blank, my face generic and indistinct. I let the rippling sensation wash over me. Within seconds I was back in my own body.
I peeked through the gaps in the shades, but no one was there. At least, no one I could see. Maybe the stranger I’d seen outside my window before was the same person Francesca had seen Madison with?
As I stretched out on the mattress the ache in my muscles was close to unbearable. My body was tired from days of pretending. Glancing at the door, I made sure the lights were already out in the hall. Madison’s nightgown fit snuggly around my chest. Falling asleep in anything but Madison’s body was a risk, I knew. But I was so, so tired and my body needed the rest. Clutching the pendant, I closed my eyes.
Just a few minutes.
• • •
I woke to the sound of hammering. Blearily I looked around, searching for the source of the noise until I saw the shadow behind the window shades. I swung my legs out of bed, untangled them from the blanket, and gripped the edge of the nightstand. Someone was in front of my window.
Panic wormed its way through my body.
“Open the damn window. I’m freezing my ass off.”
Alec.
I padded over to the window and pulled up the shade, trying to calm my pounding heart. The frame was warped, but with Alec’s strength it was easy for him to pry it open and slip inside.
It was dark in the room but the gray of his eyes and the white of his teeth still shone in the dim light. “What are you doing here?” I whispered.
His eyes wandered over me. I wrapped my arms around my chest as I remembered the skimpy nightgown I was wearing. The last time alone in a room with him had ended in a debacle. I wasn’t keen on a repeat performance.
“Shouldn’t you be Madison?”
I hurried past him to check my reflection in the mirror. Even in the dark I could see that my hair was definitely not blond. I’d forgotten to change back to Madison before checking the window. That could have ended badly. “Shit.”
He came up behind me and touched my shoulder, his fingertips soft against my skin. Even with the space between us, I could feel his warmth against my back. I wanted to lean against his chest, wanted him to wrap his arms around me. He didn’t say anything, his face shrouded by shadows, but he didn’t remove his hand. His warm breath ghosted over my neck, raising the tiny hairs on it. Kiss me, I thought.
But then he stepped back and pulled something from his jeans pocket. “I came to give you this.” He handed me a small cell phone and a Taser. “E-mail isn’t a good way to communicate. It’s not fast enough, and it isn’t safe on someone else’s computer. We must be able to reach you at any time. And I want you to keep the Taser with you no matter what.”
I slipped the phone under my pillow and the Taser into my backpack. I’d have to find a better place for it.
“Do you know what time it is?” Alec asked. I could hear a smirk in his voice.
I scanned the room for the clock. Eleven fifty. No wonder I was tired.
“Major’s furious.”
“What? Why?”
Alec raised his eyebrows.
I slapped my palm against my forehead. “Oh, shit. I forgot about the meeting.” Ronald’s gift had clearly distracted me even more than I’d realized.
“Yeah, I thought as much. Major wasn’t happy but I told him there wasn’t anything substantial to tell, so it didn’t matter.”
“Thanks.” The mission had just started and already I was screwing up.
“Don’t worry.”
“So did you find anything?” We asked at the same time. I smiled and so did he, but he quickly stepped over to the window, bringing some distance between us.
“You start,” I said, my smile gone.
“Nothing interesting. Just talk. That guy, Ryan, has been watching you a lot. It seems Madison had some kind of an affair with someone else, but no one seems to know who. Francesca and the second victim, Kristen, spread rumors about it in school.”
“That’s what I heard too. I tried to find out who it is but nobody wants to tell. I think Devon knows but he’s keeping it a secret.”
“Maybe you can pry it out of him.”
“I’ll do my best. What about Ryan?”
“What about him? He doesn’t like me. Probably thinks I’m competition.” That made him grin.
“I found a letter from him stuck in Madison’s locker this morning. He wants to talk. I think he’s really trying to win Madison back.” I propped my butt up on the desk, tired of standing. “Do you think he could be the murderer?”
Alec leaned against the window frame. “I’m not sure. What reason would he have had for the other murders? I mean, I guess he had a reason to kill Madison, but then why would he try to get back together with her? And what about the janitor or the doctor or that Kristen girl?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe there was some other reason we don’t see. Had he ever dated Kristen?”
“No, he’d been with Madison for over a year and before that he wasn’t serious with anyone.”
“And the pediatrician, Dr. Hansen? Was she Ryan’s doctor?”
Alec laughed darkly. “I don’t know, but probably. Livingston’s a very tiny town. Hansen’s practically treated everyone here at least once in their life.”
We were going nowhere with this.
“I noticed a guy in school today. His name’s Phil Faulkner; have you seen him? He’s got really abnormal eyes.”
“And?”
“I mean, some Variants have strange eyes. Look at my freaky eyes.” I thought it best not to mention Kate’s unsettling amber-copper color.
Alec took a step closer. “Your eyes are just fine.” My body flooded with warmth.
“So,” I said. “You don’t think Phil could be a Variant.”
“We’re not here to look for Variants, Tess. We’re here to look for motives.”
He looked as tired as I felt. I glanced at my bed, wondering how it would be to fall asleep beside him, cuddled against his chest, encircled by his arms. My fingers found the pendant again.
“So, how are you getting along with Summers? Is she a good mom?”
Alec shrugged and continued to stare out the window, his face solemn. “I guess. I wouldn’t know.”
Beneath the bitterness, there was a vulnerability that he seldom showed. I jumped off the desk and walked up to him, my bare feet soundless on the carpet. He didn’t turn to face me. Without shoes on, I barely reached his shoulders. I linked our fingers and squeezed. “I know it’s hard. But the FEA is our family and that’s enough.” I was trying to convince myself as much as him.
A tremor went through his body and I wrapped my arms around him, though I half expected him to push me away. He didn’t. I relaxed against him. After a moment,
he pressed his palm against my lower back. Perhaps one day he’d realize that I was a better choice than Kate. He tensed. “There’s someone on the sidewalk, watching your window. A man.”
I quickly shifted back to Madison’s body before approaching the window. There was a lone figure, obscured by the darkness. “He was here before,” I whispered.
Alec pushed open the window. The frame groaned as the man whirled around and fled. I could only hope the rest of the household hadn’t heard the noise. Alec swung out of the window, not bothering to climb. Falling one floor wouldn’t hurt him. He took off running in the direction the stranger had gone. Alec was stronger and faster than a normal human. If the guy didn’t have a bike or a getaway car somewhere nearby, he didn’t stand a chance.
“Text me,” I hissed but he had already crossed the street and disappeared into the foggy night. Cold wind blasted into the room, making me shiver. I wanted to run after them but in the time it would take me to get dressed and climb down, they’d be too far away. I closed the window, sank down on the bed, and clutched the cell phone in my hands.
My eyes began to blur from staring at the dark screen. Finally, a half hour later, the little phone glowed and Alec’s name appeared.
He got away. Lost him in fog. Talk tomorrow.
That was all? Nine words? I’d hoped for a call or at least a warmer text. He must have known that I wanted to learn every detail. After all, it wasn’t an easy feat to outrun Alec. How had the stranger managed it? I had no choice but to wait until tomorrow to find out.
• • •
My first class of the morning was English literature, one of the few classes Alec and I didn’t share. That meant I had to wait even longer to get an explanation from him.
Ana and I took our seats in the front row, the only class where we occupied such a prominent position. “Why the first row?” I asked as we unpacked Wuthering Heights, a book we were apparently reading. I’d never read it and hadn’t found the time to make up for it yet.
Ana tipped a pen against her lips, smearing her lip gloss all over it. She was always getting lip gloss everywhere, leaving her shimmery fingerprints on everything. If only the killer had been into wearing shiny makeup.
“You chose the seats,” she said. “Because of how much you love literature.” She eyed the yellowed pages of the book in front of her as if they might bite her. “Personally, I think it’s boring. The only reason I agreed to the front row is for the view.”
“The view?”
Ana winked. “You forgot the best thing about lit class? Just wait, you’ll see.”
As soon as the lit teacher, Mr. Yates, entered the classroom, I knew exactly what she’d meant. He was cute and very young for a teacher, maybe in his early-to midtwenties. His brown hair was short and curly. He wore a light-blue shirt and black trousers and was lean, but built like an athlete. Perhaps he was a runner.
“He’s new. It’s his first year as a teacher,” Ana whispered. “Everyone totally has a crush on him.”
Mr. Yates stopped behind his desk before he turned and allowed his focus to settle on me. His eyes flitted to the scar around my throat. “We’re all happy to welcome you back, Madison. I’m sure you’ll be caught up in no time.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as every pair of eyes in the room focused on me. He gave me a tight smile and picked up his copy of Wuthering Heights. He began reading an excerpt from somewhere in the middle of the book but I wasn’t listening anymore.
A minute before the bell rang, I started packing my backpack, eager to get out as fast as possible. There wasn’t much time to squeeze in a talk with Alec before the next class started. The bell rang and everyone began streaming out of the room.
“Madison, can you please stay behind for a moment? I want to discuss the assignments you missed while you were gone.”
So much for talking with Alec . . .
Ana mouthed “good luck” before she disappeared.
Mr. Yates and I were alone in the classroom. I hoped I wouldn’t have to make up work for all the classes I’d missed. I really had better things to do. Maybe someone from the FEA could do the homework for me.
“Could you please close the door? It’s getting loud outside.”
I did as he asked. My steps were the only sound as I made my way back to the front of the room where Mr. Yates was waiting. He stood behind his desk, fidgeting with a few papers. Something about the way he looked at me made me uncomfortable. It was off. There was something too familiar about it. It wasn’t a look I’d ever been on the receiving end of. And it was certainly not a look I’d expected from a teacher. His eyes searched mine and I had to fight the urge to look away.
He walked around the desk. “I was so worried. It was torture not to be able to visit you in the hospital.” A horrible suspicion wormed its way into my mind. “I missed you so much,” he whispered. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Goose bumps flashed across my skin. I looked up at him, though I dreaded what I’d see in his eyes. There it was: affection.
And I thought the FEA was twisted.
His eyes moved to the scar on my throat. “I wish I could have protected you.”
“Mr. Yates,” I said, my voice like a squeak.
Hurt flickered in his eyes. He grabbed the edge of the desk as if he needed something to hold on to. “You don’t remember.”
“I’m sorry. I—” I whispered, then stopped myself. Why the hell was I apologizing to a teacher who obviously had some kind of inappropriate relationship with his student?
He began rearranging the pencils on his desk. The silence expanded until it felt like it might crush me. His fingers hovered over a stack of papers, shaking slightly as he picked one up. “That’s for you in case you’re thinking about catching up.”
It was a summary of the last book they’d covered. I couldn’t care less.
“Mr. Yates . . .”
“Owen.” His voice was strangely raspy.
“Owen.” The word tasted strange in my mouth. “Can you please tell me what happened between us?” He handed me the stack of papers. I took it but didn’t pull my eyes from his face. He turned abruptly, leaving me to stare at his back. “You’d better go. Your next class is about to start.”
I waited, hoping he’d say more.
“Maybe it’s for the best that you don’t remember.” His voice betrayed the lie buried beneath it, and it gave me an opening. Gingerly, I leaned toward him and put my hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shy away from the touch. “Please. I want to remember.”
He turned his head, his expression a mixture of dread and hope. The bell rang, marking the beginning of my next class. No one had entered. Maybe this was his free period.
“Please,” I whispered, my eyes pleading with him. I was sure he’d refuse me.
“I’ll tell you everything if you come to my house today.” To his house? “I need to talk to you without the risk of being seen or interrupted,” he said, his eyes hopeful.
I swallowed my concerns and ignored the alarm bells going off in my head. I needed to know more about Madison’s relationship with him. Maybe it was the missing puzzle piece that would lead us to the killer. Maybe Yates was the killer and was luring me to his home to finish what he’d started?
“Okay,” I agreed.
He looked relieved and far too happy. “Meet me at five. Do you remember where I live?”
I shook my head.
Yates scribbled down his address and handed it to me along with a slip of paper excusing me for being late to my next class. “I’m looking forward to talking with you,” he said as I swung my backpack over my shoulder and trudged into the hall.
I couldn’t say the same.
CHAPTER 12
* * *
“You’re not going to that meeting,” Alec said the moment I’d stopped talking.
I glanced around. We were alone in the parking lot but I could hear laughter in the distance. It was lunchtime
. People were milling around, and though it was still cold outside, some of them were enjoying the first sunshine of spring. “I have to. It could be crucial to our investigation.”
Alec shook his head. “Don’t you get it? He could be the murderer. Do you want to get yourself killed? For God’s sake, Tessa. That guy had an affair with his student. Don’t you think he could’ve killed in order to keep it a secret?”
Of course I knew that was a possibility, and I hated how he made it sound like I was too naive to realize it. “That doesn’t explain the other victims, or do you think he had an affair with them too?”
His eyes narrowed at the challenge in my tone. “Maybe. But what about this theory: The janitor caught Yates and Madison red-handed after classes and Yates decided to get rid of him so he couldn’t tell anyone. And that girl? Maybe he had an affair with her too, and that’s why she had to die. Or maybe he wanted to silence her because she was talking shit about Madison and possibly about him too. How does that sound?”
He really made it sound like a logical explanation. At the very least, Mr. Yates seemed to have a more plausible reason to dispose of the victims than Ryan or Phil.
“It doesn’t matter. If we want to get proof, I’ll have to talk to him. Maybe he’s got nothing to do with it,” I said.
“I won’t let you go there alone.”
“Alec, don’t be stupid. Do you think he’ll talk to me if you’re around?” I joked, knowing full well what he meant.
He wasn’t amused. “I’ll wait outside. If something goes wrong you’ll scream or make yourself noticeable. If you don’t return within thirty minutes, I’m coming in.”
“Suppose my talk with Yates takes longer than thirty minutes.”
“You’d better make sure it doesn’t.”
That was the last word on the matter. Alec had that stubborn glint in his eyes that I knew all too well. He was in protective mode and it was useless to argue with him.
• • •