Who Killed the Homecoming Queen? Page 7

  Keith shrugged again. “Whatever.”

  Eva turned away, thinking she’d go over and try to cheer Jeremy up.

  But Jeremy had left. Instead, Eva saw Sandy walking toward them.

  Leslie spotted him, too. She sucked in her breath and stalked away, giving Sandy a disgusted glance as she passed him.

  “What’s her problem?” Sandy asked as he shuffled slowly up to them. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear it. I was halfway home when I realized I forgot all my books. I must be losing my mind.”

  Eva stared at him. “You look terrible,” she told him.

  “I feel terrible.” Sandy blinked his red-rimmed eyes. “I haven’t slept. I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about Tania.”

  “Nobody can,” Eva murmured. “We’re all worried out of our minds.”

  “Yeah.” Keith punched Sandy lightly on the arm. “Go home, man. At least try to sleep. You look like the walking dead.”

  Sandy nodded and headed into the school.

  “You want a ride home?” Keith asked Eva.

  “No, thanks. I think I’ll see if Jeremy’s still around somewhere.” Eva nodded good-bye to Keith, then crossed the parking lot.

  She glanced around, thinking Jeremy might have just moved down the row of cars. But she didn’t see him. He wasn’t on the sidewalk or the hill that led toward the football field, either.

  He must have gone home, Eva decided. She began to leave the parking lot, then realized she’d forgotten her backpack. Sandy’s not the only one who’s too upset to remember things, she thought.

  Eva ran across the windy lot and into the school. As she passed the auditorium, she heard voices coming from inside. Were they practicing for the homecoming ceremony, without Tania?

  She couldn’t stand to know. She hurried past the doors and trotted up to the second floor. She heard a locker slam somewhere in the distance. Then she heard footsteps echoing loudly in the empty hall.

  Rounding the corner, Eva saw Leslie rushing toward her.

  She saw Leslie’s frightened expression.

  Then she saw the dark stain on Leslie’s yellow sweater.

  “Leslie!” Eva cried. “What is all that blood?”

  chapter 20

  Leslie stopped quickly and flung her hair out of her face.

  Eva sucked in her breath, shocked and frightened. She stared hard at Leslie. At the bloodstain on the front of her sweater.

  Then she raised her eyes to Leslie’s face—and gasped.

  A streak of blood washed across one of Leslie’s cheeks and dripped slowly down, onto her neck. Beads of bright red glistened on her eyelashes and scattered across her cheeks.

  Her hands looked as if she’d dipped them into a bucket of blood.

  “Leslie, you’re hurt!” Eva cried.

  “I’m okay, I think.” Leslie raised a bloody hand and pushed her hair away again. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was so furious, Eva, I lost my temper.” Leslie’s lips quivered. “I just blew up! And I … I slammed my locker door against the wall”

  “Your locker …” Eva’s words caught in her throat.

  Leslie took a deep breath. “I keep a mirror hanging inside the locker,” she explained. Her voice shook and her gaze kept skipping around the hall. She wiped her hands on her jeans. As she did, she winced. “When I opened the locker, I slammed the door back really hard. The mirror broke. And I cut myself.”

  “Where?” Eva asked.

  “The mirror just shattered!” Leslie cried. “Pieces of glass sprayed all over me.” A drop of blood spilled from Leslie’s eyelashes and rolled toward her mouth. She wiped it away.

  Eva put an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go into the bathroom. I’ll help you clean up.”

  “I just want to get out of here,” Leslie declared.

  “You can’t walk around with that blood all over you,” Eva insisted, pulling her toward the bathroom across the hall. “You’ll give people a heart attack. You almost gave me one.”

  In the bathroom, Leslie leaned against the tile wall and closed her eyes. Eva wadded up a bunch of paper towels and dampened them in cool water. Then she gently wiped Leslie’s face and hands and neck, getting as much blood off as she could.

  “That’s good enough.” Leslie pushed herself away from the wall. “Thanks, Eva, but I need to get away from here.”

  “Want to borrow my jacket to cover up?” Eva asked, tossing the towels into the wastepaper basket. “It’s in my locker.”

  Leslie shook her head, her face pale. “No. I just want to go home.” She checked herself in the mirror, then pulled open the door. “Thanks for helping, Eva,” she called back over her shoulder.

  Eva washed her hands and left the bathroom. All I want to do is go home, too, she thought as she walked down the hall. Go home, crawl under the covers, and go to sleep. Maybe when I wake up, this awful feeling will be gone.

  But she knew it wouldn’t.

  Eva turned another corner and hurried toward her locker. As she drew closer, she saw a dark stain on the floor in front of it.

  No, not a stain. A dark puddle.

  Sidestepping it, Eva spun the combination lock and yanked open the door.

  “Huh?” She let out a startled cry as a boy tumbled out of the locker.

  Eva stared in horror at the thick, brownish-blond hair and the good-looking face of Sandy Bishop.

  Sandy’s eyes were closed.

  His lips were drawn back from his teeth, as if he were screaming.

  His body slid slowly from the locker. His shoulders, his chest, his legs. He twisted as he fell, and then his face slammed into the puddle of blood on the floor.

  Blood, Eva thought as her heart thundered loudly. Sandy’s blood!

  She reached toward him, her hand shaking.

  Then she saw the knife.

  A thick-handled knife, stuck halfway to the hilt in Sandy’s back.

  Feeling dizzy, Eva jerked her hand away and straight up. As she did, she caught sight of the words on the inside of her locker door.

  The words scrawled in blood.

  Sandy’s blood.

  Your Turn Next

  Eva’s own blood pounded in her ears. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t move.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off Sandy. Somebody killed him, she thought. Stabbed him in the back.

  And I’m next.

  Terrified, she raised her hands to her hair and began to scream.

  chapter 21

  “I still can’t believe it!” Cherise cried. “Sandy—dead! It’s like a nightmare!”

  Cherise sat on one end of the couch in Eva’s living room. Leslie sat at the other end. Keith paced the floor, stopping every once in a while to glance out the front window. Jeremy sat tensely on the low stone ledge in front of the fireplace, clutching a can of soda and staring at the rug.

  Eva sat in a soft, fat armchair and listened as the others discussed Sandy’s murder.

  I’m so exhausted, she thought. It must be from the shock.

  It had been three hours since she’d discovered Sandy’s body. The police came. And after they talked to Eva, they rounded up Sandy’s friends and questioned them. Afterward, they all gathered at Eva’s house.

  Nobody wants to go home yet, Eva thought, glancing around. We’re all so upset.

  And so frightened.

  What is going on?

  “I mean, what is going on?” Cherise wailed, echoing Eva’s thought. “This is totally unbelievable!”

  “You already said that a zillion times,” Keith groaned.

  “Well, excuse me,” Cherise snapped. “I suppose you think it’s normal to have dead bodies falling out of lockers!”

  Eva shuddered and curled her legs underneath her.

  “Sorry, Eva,” Cherise said. She sighed and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Sorry, everybody. I guess I’m a little freaked.”

  “We all
are.” Jeremy’s voice sounded hollow.

  Keith peered out the window for a moment, then began pacing again. As he did, he held up the fingers of one hand. “Tania’s gone.” He bent a finger down. “Eva and Cherise get a threatening phone call. Sandy is murdered. And Eva finds a threatening message.”

  Keith bent the last finger and clenched his fist. “What does it all mean?”

  Eva shuddered again, remembering those bloody words.

  Your Turn Next.

  She knew what that meant.

  But did someone really plan to kill her?

  “I keep trying to figure out what’s coming,” Keith went on. “You know, like I’m watching a movie or something. Trying to guess what’s going to happen.”

  Jeremy raised his head. “It’s not a movie plot, Keith. Unfortunately, it’s real.”

  “Well, it doesn’t hurt to try to figure things out,” Cherise told him. “Maybe if we do, this awful nightmare will be over.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she plucked a tissue from the box on the end table.

  “Somebody’s trying to kill us. That’s what’s happening,” Keith declared.

  Is that true? Eva wondered. Tania’s missing. And Sandy’s dead, and I got that message. But still … something doesn’t make sense.

  Something feels wrong.

  “What I want to know is why someone’s doing it,” Keith said. “Why would someone want us dead?”

  “Who cares why?” Cherise asked. “The important thing is who!”

  Everyone turned to Leslie.

  She sat huddled on the couch, nervously chewing on a thumbnail.

  Did Leslie really cut herself on a mirror this afternoon? Eva wondered.

  Or did she kill Sandy?

  Feeling everyone’s eyes on her, Leslie stopped chewing her nail and stared back. “Don’t look at me like that,” she told them.

  Eva dropped her eyes, feeling slightly ashamed. Okay, so Leslie had a bad temper. And she was furious with Tania and with Sandy.

  That didn’t make her a killer, did it?

  “The police grilled me too, remember?” Leslie reminded them in a shaky voice. “I was alone in the school. Eva found me covered with blood. They kept asking me what happened, over and over and over! It was horrible. And now you guys are staring at me as if you suspect me, too!”

  “Look, we’re upset and scared,” Keith said.

  “So am I!” Leslie insisted. “But I’m not a killer. None of us are. We’re all just normal kids. Who is doing this?”

  The telephone rang shrilly, and everyone jumped.

  Eva slipped out of the chair. It’s Mom, she thought as she crossed the living room to answer it. Probably calling to say she’s leaving work now. Thank goodness she wasn’t home when we got here.

  She’s going to freak when she hears what happened to Sandy.

  “Hello?” Eva said.

  Silence.

  And then a low, raspy voice came over the line. The same voice Eva had heard at Cherise’s house.

  “Your turn next,” it whispered.

  “What?” Eva gripped the phone so hard her knuckles turned white. “Who is this? What are you trying …”

  “Your turn next,” the voice interrupted. “First Tania. Then Sandy.”

  Silence for a second.

  Eva waited, her heart pounding.

  “Then you,” the voice whispered.

  chapter 22

  “I really don’t feel like doing this,” Eva told Keith the next afternoon.

  “Come on, Eva,” Keith hoisted the camcorder on his shoulder and gave her a pleading look. “It won’t take long.”

  Eva yanked her hair out of her face and glanced up at the top of the football stadium bleachers. “I didn’t braid my hair. This wind will turn it into a tumbleweed.”

  Keith rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about the way you look. These are supposed to be candid video portraits of my friends, remember? It’s not a modeling job, for crying out loud.”

  “What am I supposed to do, anyway?”

  “Just talk to the camera,” Keith told her. He turned and started up the steps. “Or you and Cherise can talk to each other. She’s coming, too, remember?”

  “Well, why do we have to be outside?” Eva asked. “Why can’t we go in where it’s warm?”

  Sandy shook his head. “All the other video portraits were done out here—Jeremy’s and Tania’s and Sandy’s. I want them all to be in exactly the same place.” Keith reached the top of the bleachers. “Besides, I told Cherise to meet us up here,” he added. “Come on!”

  Eva followed reluctantly. She really did not want to stand in front of a camera and talk, but she’d promised Keith.

  “What should we talk about?” she asked.

  “Whatever you want,” he called over his shoulder. “Whatever’s on your mind.”

  Tania and Sandy, Eva thought. That’s all that’s on anyone’s mind.

  Tania and Sandy … and that horrible phone call yesterday.

  Your turn next.

  Eva shivered and ran up the last few steps, joining Keith at the top of the bleachers. While he checked out the camera, she fished in her jeans pocket, hoping to find a rubber band.

  Nothing but lint.

  “I can’t stand this!” she cried, sweeping her hair out of her eyes.

  Keith glanced at her. “Not your hair again.”

  “No!” Eva knelt down and began rummaging through her book bag. “It’s not my hair at all. It’s everything that’s going on. I can’t stop thinking about it!”

  Keith carefully lowered the camera onto a bleacher seat. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I guess that phone call really shook you up, huh?”

  “I’m scared to death,” Eva admitted. She pawed through the book bag some more and finally found a rubber band way at the bottom. “That voice—I kept hearing it in my head, all night long.”

  “I wish I could have heard it,” Keith said.

  “You wouldn’t have recognized it,” Eva assured him. “It’s creepy and rough. Not anybody we know.” She grabbed her hair and twisted the rubber band around it. “Someone is planning to kill us all. But why? What did we do?”

  Keith shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m as confused as everybody else. We’re all in the dark about this. That’s what’s so scary.”

  Eva took a deep breath. “Well, anyway, that’s why I don’t feel like doing the video—because I’m worried. Not because of my hair.”

  “But you’ll do it, anyway. Right?” Keith asked.

  Eva nodded.

  “Great.” He picked up the camcorder and peered through the lens. “Smile—I’ll make you a star.”

  I don’t want to be a star, Eva thought.

  I just want to be safe. I want everybody to be safe.

  But she forced a smile. Keith is only trying to cheer me up, she realized.

  “Okay … ready?” he called.

  “Wait a sec.” Eva glanced around. “I thought you said Cherise was coming.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s late.” Keith shrugged. “I’ll get her some other time. Now—start talking.”

  Eva rolled her eyes. “Okay. Hi, Keith.” She stuck out her tongue and waved to the camera. “How’s that? Is that enough?”

  “Are you going to clown around the whole time?” he asked, exasperated.

  “Okay, no more clowning. I promise.” Eva took a deep breath. “Hi. I’m Eva Whelan.”

  “Hold it,” Keith interrupted. “Step back, would you? Lean against the bleacher rail. You look like you’re standing at attention.”

  Eva backed up a couple of steps and stretched her arms out along the wooden railing.

  “Perfect,” Keith told her. “But lean against it. Try to relax.”

  Eva leaned back, letting the rail take most of her weight.

  A horrible cracking sound split the air.

  Gasping, Eva felt herself falling backward as the rail started to give way behind her.

  “Help! Keith!”
<
br />   Too late. She started to fall.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Eva caught a glimpse of the ground, far below.

  It really is my turn, she realized.

  My turn to die!

  chapter 23

  “Keith!” Eva shrieked. “Keith!”

  Eva twisted sideways and caught the edge of the bleacher step with one hand. She hung by an arm, her legs dangling in the air.

  Her fingers began to slip. She screamed again.

  Then Keith grabbed hold of her wrist, clamping onto it like a vise.

  Eva swept her other arm toward him, and he latched onto that one, too.

  “Don’t let me fall!” she cried. “Please!”

  Keith began pulling her up, his eyes squeezed almost shut with the effort.

  Pain shot through Eva’s arms. It felt as if they were being torn from their sockets.

  “Swing your leg up!” Keith groaned, pulling hard. His face turned red as he struggled to hang on. “Get your leg up!”

  Eva’s chest scraped against the edge of the bleachers. She swung her leg and tried to hook her toe onto the edge. But her sneaker started to slip off.

  She bent her knee and felt it scrape up and over the rough cement. Keith pulled harder, grunting and straining.

  And then she was up, scrambling over the edge.

  She lay flat on her stomach on the hard cement, dazed with relief.

  Keith sat back on his heels, panting.

  Eva finally pushed herself to her hands and knees. “Thanks,” she said shakily. She rolled over and sat. “Thanks, Keith.”

  “Sure.” Keith hung his head, still catching his breath. “What happened, anyway? I heard this cracking sound.”

  “The railing. It broke.”

  Keith shook his head. “How could that happen? It’s new. They put it in last spring, remember?”

  Eva turned to the broken railing. It had broken in the middle, but it hadn’t fallen completely off.

  And the break didn’t look jagged at all. It looked as if it had snapped cleanly.

  Scrambling to their feet, they both went to check it out.

  “It didn’t break.” Keith rubbed his finger across one end of the wood, then stared at Eva. “This didn’t break by itself. Somebody sawed it.”