Pretty Little Devils

  “Oh, Haze!” Ellen stopped short. “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay,” Hazel reassured her.

  Inside, she couldn’t help but hurt.

  Just a few weeks ago, she was at homecoming with Matty. Just a few weeks ago, she was falling in love. How could it all have changed so quickly?

  “So guys—no calls, no wacky e-mails, no text messages for the past week and a half.” Sylvia stabbed a sliver of lettuce. “The same amount of time Matty has been in custody. I think the police got their man.”

  “I think we’re lucky he didn’t hack any of us up,” Megan muttered.

  “So,” Sylvia said cheerfully, “it looks like things will blow over just in time for my birthday party.”

  Hazel knew Sylvia’s party was the next big event on the PLDs’ social calendar, but she just couldn’t find it within her to care. Things were getting back to normal at the speed of light. At least, that was how it seemed. Meanwhile she was stuck. Frozen by what had happened. Beyond devastated.

  Sylvia had noticed and had been especially nice to Hazel since Matty’s arrest. Hazel was excused from sitting but got a share of the money anyway. Sylvia took her to the movies. And for pedicures. The PLDs played poker and Hazel was pretty sure Sylvia let her win.

  Still, Hazel knew it would take a lot of time to get her back to her old self. Could there be a worse way to break up?

  They planned Sylvia’s birthday party. It was going to be catered by the same chichi company the Duvaliers used. Everything that could be purple would be purple.

  As Sylvia kept reminding everyone, it was going to be amazing.

  “Hey, sexy ladies,” Josh greeted the table. Brandon approached with him.

  “Hi,” Ellen chirped.

  “Got some sugar for Monkey Boy?” Brandon asked. He stood behind Ellen and threw his arms around her.

  Hazel noted Ellen’s expression. It was pure bliss. I guess she really doesn’t care about his past with Sylvia, Hazel thought.

  Megan and Carolyn snickered, as if Ellen’s happiness were somehow uncool.

  Mercifully, Ellen didn’t notice. She pushed back her chair. “That pudding looks good,” she said, pointing to Megan’s bowl. “Come on, Monkey Boy. Let’s get some.”

  “You can have some of mine,” Megan offered, lifting the bowl off the table.

  “No, it’s okay.” Ellen giggled. Brandon grabbed her around the waist. He tucked her under his arm and hooted like a baboon. “We’ll get our own.”

  Brandon carried Ellen away to the serving area.

  Sylvia regarded them coldly. She gave Josh’s hand a pat. “I’m so glad my boyfriend has class.”

  “Hey,” Josh joked. “I could be up for a little walk on the wild side.”

  Sylvia smiled seductively. “Patience, Josh.” She planted a long, passionate kiss on his lips. “Now go away. We have business to discuss.”

  “Okay,” Josh said, giving Sylvia another kiss. “Au revoir.”

  He took off.

  Sylvia glanced toward the cafeteria line. Hazel followed her gaze.

  Ellen and Brandon were fooling around near the fruit bowl—Ellen pretending to offer her Monkey Boy a banana.

  Even Hazel couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight.

  Sylvia leaned in closer. “So, Haze. Now that everything has calmed down for a while, we’ve decided to do one last prank.”

  “The four of us,” Carolyn clarified. “Because it’s so good—”

  “And because it’s symbolic,” Megan cut in.

  Sylvia nodded. “One last prank says we refuse to let everything that’s happened this year get the better of us. We are still strong. We are still the PLDs.”

  “And,” Carolyn added, “it is really, really good.”

  “It’s going to be our grand finale, and then we’re done,” Sylvia concluded.

  “You think that’s a good idea?” Hazel asked. “I mean, doesn’t it still seem wrong?”

  “Here comes Ellen,” Sylvia said, ignoring Hazel. “Tonight we’ll finalize the plan.” She smiled as Ellen returned to the table, carrying her pudding and grinning naively.

  PERSONALBLOG

  HAPPY2BME

  THEY THINK THEY’RE SAFE! THAT MATTY’S GONE, SO IT’S ALL GOOD. THEY THINK THEY CAN KEEP THEIR SECRETS. THEY ARE SO WRONG. I’M STILL HERE. AND I KNOW EVERYTHING. ALL I NEED IS THE PERFECT MOMENT TO POUNCE.

  YOU HAVE ENTERED

  The Superprank XXX PLD Chat room

  THIS IS A PRIVATE CHAT ROOM FOR INVITED MEMBERS ONLY

  Members in chat room:

  PLDSLY

  PLDMEG

  PLDCARO

  PLDHAZE

  PLDSLY: OK, let’s talk about the big prank. Meg?

  PLDMEG: KK, here it is. On the 27th, a Sat., Charlie Pollins is going to movies w/friends 4 a bday party. Mr. P. is working late, needs someone to watch Charlie after he’s dropped off. While he’s at movies, we get Ellen over early, tell her to meet Charlie there to sit after movie.

  PLDSLY: We get there ahead of her. We put Monkey Boy doll in study. Hide out. Turn off all the power.

  PLDMEG: Then we prank-call. Tell her to go to the study.

  PLDSLY: There is Monkey Boy, in the chair! She sees shadow, freaks. Thinks—intruder! We turn on lights, just the dumb monkey.

  PLDHAZE: Scare her bad? I don’t like.

  PLDMEG: No! We don’t let it go on too long. If she gets scared, we stop!

  PLDCARO: It works only cuz of Monkey Boy.

  PLDMEG: Exactement! It’ll be cool. Wait & C!

  YRSECRETPAL2BRANDOG: Hi, Brandon! Im at Charlies 2nite. Rendezvous @7:15 PM! Park far. Come in thru study. Wait 4 me.

  BRANDOG: El? Hey! Sounds good. Ill B there. Hasta!

  Hazel’s phone vibrated at a little after seven. She was in Charlie’s room, messing with his Game Boy, and the jiggling against her hip startled her.

  “Okay,” Megan murmured in her ear. “The prank is ready to go. Monkey Boy is in the chair.”

  “Okay,” Hazel whispered back. Ellen wasn’t there yet, and it was probably all right if they spoke in normal tones of voice. Still, the whispering added to the stealthy vibe of the last and greatest PLD prank.

  Ellen was due at seven-thirty, and Carolyn was on duty in the front room. Her job was to watch out the window and call Megan when Ellen was at the door.

  “I want to come see,” Hazel said.

  “No! Stay where you are,” Megan insisted. “No unnecessary movement. She might show early. You can see afterward.”

  “Carolyn will let us know when she’s here, right?” Hazel asked.

  “Yes,” Megan replied. “And remember, we don’t want there to be any shadows on the curtains. So when I say go, get in Charlie’s closet.”

  “I don’t really get why I have to be inside—”

  “In case she doesn’t go to the study right away. What if she checks Charlie’s room? She’s not supposed to know we’re here, Haze.”

  Well, duh. Hazel felt minorly insulted. “But we’re not going to draw this out, right? Because it wasn’t very funny in the locker room—”

  “Haze, chill. It’s our last prank. El will be cool with it. She’s got a backbone. You’ve just never seen it.”

  “Okay.” Hazel still wasn’t convinced.

  “Sylvia’s in the hall closet closest to the study,” Megan said. “She’s got the cordless from the kitchen. When the phone rings, you grab the portable in Charlie’s room so you can listen in.”

  Hazel had the extension on her lap.

  “I’m going to be in the basement so I can turn off the power right after she gets here,” Megan reminded her. “So actually, you might as well get into the closet now. Don’t forget your flashlight.”

  What if I’m the one being pranked? Hazel thought.

  Hazel had been secretly worried about that ever since the plan was set.

  She wouldn’t put it past the PLDs to concoct some elaborate hoax—to throw her off balance just
to scare the heck out of her.

  Maybe they wanted her to hide in the closet so they could turn off the lights and ditch her? Or maybe someone was already hiding in the closet, waiting for her?

  “Hazel?” Megan said. “Are you in the closet?”

  Hazel hesitated. She picked up her flashlight from Charlie’s dresser. Then she walked to the closet and peered inside. No one there. She rummaged among Charlie’s things to see if she could find a speaker or a voice chip, some other kind of electronic special effect set up to spook her. Still nothing.

  “Hazel?” Megan repeated.

  “Yes,” she said quickly, before Megan could ask again. “I’m in here.” She switched the portable to her other hand.

  “Okay, I’m getting off my cell now so Carolyn can call me when she sees Ellen. I might be able to warn you with a vibrate-only call, but don’t answer it again. And remember, when the portable rings, wait for Ellen to answer the phone and then connect.”

  “I’m good to go,” Hazel assured her. She pulled the closet door partway shut and braced herself for the power to go out. She considered sitting cross-legged on the floor. Then her cell vibrated.

  She took a breath; Ellen had arrived.

  The prank was on.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The front door opened. Hazel could hear the jangle of keys and the rustle of Ellen taking off her coat. She had been told that Charlie would be dropped off a little after she arrived, so the empty house made sense.

  Hazel listened hard, trying to keep track of Ellen’s movements. Then the landline let out a shrill, startling ring. Hazel jumped, dropping it. It smacked her foot.

  She grimaced, bending down to squeeze her toes.

  Then the light in the closet went out. Megan had turned the power off.

  Hazel felt around on the floor, trying to figure out where she’d dropped the portable. She found the phone and picked it up. The prank call was in progress.

  “…have them tied up,” a very hoarse voice whispered. “Call the cops and they’re dead.”

  “Who…what…?” That was Ellen. She sounded terrified.

  “I’m the same guy who killed that slut.” Hazel knew it was Megan, but all the same, her voice was chilling.

  This wasn’t what we agreed to, Hazel thought. It wasn’t going to be Breona’s killer inside the house. Just an intruder.

  “Now I’m gonna kill the little boy.”

  “I’m calling the police,” Ellen said. “Right now.”

  “Call and he’s dead. I’ll be out of here before they come. I’ll leave the way I came. No will see me. And you’ll be dead too.”

  “Oh God, oh my God…” Ellen trailed off.

  God, Megan, be more obvious, Hazel thought.

  There was a muffled sound. It was Sylvia in the hall closet; Hazel figured the noise would draw Ellen toward the study instead of the kitchen.

  It worked. Hazel heard Ellen in the hallway and on the phone as well, a strange combination of natural voice and metallic, like a poorly mixed sound track.

  “Don’t you hurt him!” Ellen’s voice was high-pitched, shrill. There was a loud banging, more shouting, only it was a different voice.

  “Hey!” It was a guy’s voice, familiar. Who was that?

  Hazel’s first instinct had been right: this was a bad prank. It wasn’t funny. She was putting a stop to it—right now.

  She shouted into the phone, “Ellen? Ellen, wait!”

  Then she heard a sound she couldn’t identify—a loud thud.

  And then screaming.

  Hysterical screaming.

  Hazel threw open the closet door and raced out of Charlie’s room. She ran into the hall. “Ellen?”

  A light flared on wall; Sylvia emerged from the closet with her flashlight. “What’s going on? What happened?” she demanded.

  The door to the study was open and so was the door beyond it, leading outside. Sylvia pushed past Hazel, raced inside the study. “Oh my God!” she cried.

  Hazel ran in after her.

  Sylvia’s flashlight beam sliced through the shadow, giving Hazel tiny glimpses of the scene.

  Ellen sprawled on the floor, gasping.

  Charlie’s baseball bat at her feet.

  “Megan, turn on the lights!” Sylvia bellowed.

  The lights switched on.

  Hazel covered her mouth with both her hands.

  Monkey Boy, with his hideous, laughing face, sat untouched in the study chair. Behind him lay Brandon, sprawled on his back. He didn’t move.

  Hazel ran to him, crying, “Brandon? Are you okay?”

  Sylvia came with her. Hazel fell to her knees. There was no blood, but there was an angry red mark spreading around Brandon’s right eye. Hazel cautiously reached out and touched his shoulder; he was still.

  She looked at Sylvia, who paled. Hazel carefully raised Brandon’s head.

  His eyes were open but vacant.

  “Brandon?” Hazel called. She looked at Sylvia. “Oh my God. Is he breathing?”

  “Oh God, oh God,” Sylvia murmured. “Brandon, can you hear me?”

  He didn’t answer. Ellen was hunched in the corner, whimpering and crying.

  Footfalls thudded down the hallway, and Megan burst into the room. “What’s going on?” Her eyes grew wide with terror when they fell on Brandon’s body.

  “Sylvia?” Megan said in a trembling voice. “How did he get in here?”

  Sylvia shook her head, too stunned to speak. Carolyn was standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her body, hugging herself.

  Megan rushed over, bent down, and said, “Brandon?” She touched his forehead. Then she moved her fingers under his nose. “Oh my God. You guys, he’s not breathing!”

  “What was he doing here?” Carolyn suddenly demanded. “How did he get in here?”

  “He’s not breathing,” Hazel repeated steadily. Then her voice rose as everyone stared at her. “He’s not breathing.”

  The next few moments were a blur. Someone was holding on to her and crying. She snapped out of her stupor to find herself with her arms around Megan. Sylvia and Carolyn were wrapped around Ellen and holding her tightly.

  He’s dead. He’s dead. The thought repeated in Hazel’s mind. But how could this have happened? How could their prank have gone so horribly wrong?

  Carolyn took a deep breath. She looked at Ellen. “What did you hit him with?”

  Ellen was beyond answering. Her body shook with deep, soul-crushing sobs.

  “Charlie’s baseball bat,” Megan filled in. She reached for it.

  “Don’t touch it,” Carolyn said. “They’ll need to dust it for prints.”

  “What?” Hazel said. “Fingerprints? What are you talking about?”

  Carolyn took a long, ragged breath. “Ellen killed him,” she said calmly. “We have to call the police.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ellen killed him.

  There was a long silence as everyone processed that.

  Then Sylvia said, “Charlie’s going to be home soon.”

  “Oh my God.” Megan stared at the others. “What are we going to do?”

  “We have to tell the police,” Carolyn said.

  “No! No, please,” Ellen begged. She could barely speak. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was wet with tears. “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to—”

  “Besides, this is our fault.” Sylvia looked at each one of them in turn. “If we hadn’t planned the prank, this never would have happened. We can’t let Ellen take all the blame.”

  “But what’s he doing here?” Megan cried, pointing toward Brandon’s body. “How’d he get in?”

  “He must have let himself in through the study door,” Sylvia said. “Ellen, did he know you were going to sit Charlie?”

  Ellen shook her head. “I…I didn’t tell him.” Her eyes widened as she looked at the group. “How did he know? Which one of you told him?”

  No one spoke.

  Sylvia took
a deep breath, exhaling. She stood up straight and raised her chin, reasserting her command. “Okay. We are not going to the police with this.”

  Everyone looked at her in shock.

  “We all had a hand in this. We’re all guilty,” Sylvia said.

  “It was an accident,” Hazel argued.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Carolyn said. “Someone told Brandon to come here.”

  “Who?” Ellen bellowed. “Who did this?”

  “Shut up,” Sylvia snapped. “We were all in on the prank. We’re all involved now.” She paused. “Don’t you see? Even if it was an accident, they can still send us to jail—all of us—for manslaughter.”

  Hazel stared at the others. She found a look of horror on each of their faces—an expression that must have reflected her own.

  “I can’t let that happen,” Sylvia decided. “I’ll take care of this.” She whipped out her cell phone and dialed.

  “Sylvia, that’s ridiculous.” Megan grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing?”

  Sylvia stared at her coolly. “Let go of my hand,” she said in an almost conversational tone. “You go head off Charlie. Pick him up at the movie, take him to the diner, and wait till we call you.” She looked at Hazel. “Get Ellen out of here. Get her something to drink.”

  Hazel put her arm around Ellen, supporting her. “Come on,” she said gently.

  Ellen rose with her, lurching forward. Together they shuffled into the kitchen. On the way, Hazel glanced at the walls, the bookshelves, the gray carpet—a photograph of Charlie and his parents.

  Everything felt close and foreign, as if all these strange objects might just collapse in and suffocate them.

  In the kitchen, Ellen leaned her back against the counter. She ripped at her cuticle. Blood pooled around the moon of her thumbnail.

  Hazel sat down beside her. She gave Ellen a glass or two of wine. Then Hazel switched her to water.

  After a while, Carolyn peeked in on them from the doorway. She had a bedsheet clutched in her hands. “What is that for?” Ellen asked, her voice taut with grief.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be all right,” Carolyn said gently, as if Ellen had a terrible disease. She disappeared into the study again.