CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Right next to the teachers’ parking lot was a statue of a bulldog, the school mascot, sitting on top of a granite pedestal. Three months ago, Justin, Hindy and some other guys were wasted and snuck onto campus late one night to climb on top and stream themselves live. That felt like three years ago at this point. Justin remembered it now as he and the others stood behind the statue, using the spot as a lookout. They had a perfect view of the teachers’ lot, but the teachers wouldn’t be able to see them.

“I think we should try not to be alone today,” Sabrina said.

A life-or-death buddy system, Justin thought grimly.

“Are you guys sure we should be doing this?” Gabby asked, squeezing his hand tightly. “What if we’re in over our heads this time? He’s got to know we’re on to him if he was driving that van.”

“We’re totally in over our heads,” Z answered. Justin was surprised to hear fear in her voice, too. “But we’re also the ones who have the best shot at figuring out who has the serum.”

Sabrina nodded. “We have to finish this. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to imagine a group of terrorists who have Andrew’s brainpower or Justin’s psychokinesis.”

Gabby was practically cutting off the circulation in Justin’s hand. “That’s what I mean, though. If he’s already killed people to get it, what’s he going to do to us if we try to stop him? He could have a plan in place already. He doesn’t even have to follow us. He knows exactly where we are all day.”

“That’s why we’re not getting too close,” Andrew responded.

Justin wrapped his arms around Gabby’s waist. “You don’t have to do this, Gabby. If you don’t want to be here, I can take you home right now,” he told her. He didn’t realize until this moment, when it all suddenly became real, that he hoped she would bow out. He could handle himself, but what about her? If something happened to Gabby, he didn’t know what he would do. He’d never felt like this about a girl —

“Can you please think about Gabby when you’re not around me?” Z asked.

Justin’s cheeks fired up. “You promised to stay out of my head, Z.”

“I know, but it’s hard to control when I’m nervous.”

He had more to say to her, but Dr. Fields pulled up in his car. Justin had him for chem two years earlier, and all he remembered was that his class almost killed his GPA and Dr. Fields didn’t give a crap about it. Justin would’ve gotten kicked off the football team if that nerd from the science club hadn’t let him cheat off him.

“Did Dr. Fields always have a Mustang?” Justin asked, noticing for the first time how shiny his car looked.

“I don’t think so. That car looks brand-new,” Andrew answered. “It still has the plates from the dealer on it.”

“What if he sold the serum and is already starting to spend the cash?” Justin asked, eyeing Dr. Fields as he got out of the car.

“I think you’re reaching,” Z responded. “It’s only a Mustang.”

Justin shot her a look. “Only a Mustang? Sorry, Z, we can’t all have rich dads who buy us Range Rovers.” When Z winced, he wished he could take it back. It wasn’t her fault her parents had money and his mom didn’t.

Fields was talking on his cell phone as he slammed his car door shut.

“He looks mad,” Gabby whispered. They couldn’t hear him, but Justin agreed. He was making the kinds of faces and hand gestures that you do when you’re pissed at somebody. Fields still couldn’t see them as he passed by the front of the bulldog statue.

“I told you why I was there,” Fields seethed into his phone. “It’s not my fault he didn’t show up to the meeting.”

“I wonder what meeting he’s talking about,” Gabby said.

“We need to get his phone,” Justin responded, already strategizing how he could do it without getting caught. He looked down at Gabby, who watched Fields’s every move as he walked away.

The bell was going to ring in ten minutes. “Should we head to class?” Sabrina asked, looking at Gabby.

“Do you think we can really do this?” Gabby asked. Something in her voice had shifted, though, as if she was looking for assurance instead of a reason to back out.

“Yes. We can,” Sabrina said definitively. She turned to face them all. “If you were asking me if Hannah Phelps or Hindy or any of the cheerleaders or Mathletes could do this, I’d say no … but us? We were chosen for a reason. We’re Lost Causes. That’s exactly what makes us strong. We’ve been beaten down in life — and we’ve gotten back up. We can handle anything.”

Justin wasn’t going to lie. It was a pretty damn good speech. He was suddenly feeling more fired up than before a game. Maybe they should bring in Sabrina to do the football team pep talks from now on. But as he looked back at Gabby, he still felt protective. He didn’t want her to feel peer pressured into this. It was too dangerous a situation to walk into if she really didn’t think she could deal with it. If she started acting too freaked out in front of any of the suspects, it would be a bigger red flag than anything.

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” Justin told her again. “You could go home on your own, and Nash would make sure you were safe. The four of us would stay. I’m sure that won’t look as suspicious.”

Gabby shook her head. “No. It has to be unanimous.” After a beat, she looked at them decisively. “I’m not giving up now. I’m in.”

*    *    *

Wincott was lecturing about something as he sauntered around the classroom, but Sabrina couldn’t pay attention to a word of it. As much as she knew the Lost Causes could handle this, the reality of sitting a few feet away from a teacher that might be a murderer was more daunting than she’d realized when she was trying to pump the others up near the parking lot. Instead of taking notes on Fitzgerald’s use of war imagery in Tender Is the Night, she was picturing Wincott tracking her in the white van, and when that image faded away, she pictured him burying Devon’s body at the Springs. She wasn’t sure what kind of intel she was supposed to get just by sitting in class. Patricia said to look for anything unusual, even if it was slight, but Wincott was acting the same way he always did. Yet Sabrina was sitting there wondering whether Wincott had tortured Lily with a blowtorch. It didn’t help that she remembered Nash saying that he felt Wincott was at the top of the suspect list.

She jumped when the bell rang and quickly packed up her books.

“Sabrina?” Her stomach dropped as she looked up to find Wincott standing directly over her. “Can you stay for a minute?”

The last few students were walking out. She knew she shouldn’t stay in the room alone with him.

“I’ve got to get to physics.”

“This will only take a minute.”

“What’s up?” she asked quickly, but it wasn’t fast enough. The last student left and Wincott closed the door behind him. Now it was just the two of them.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re okay?” He took a few steps toward her. “That was a pretty big accident you got into on Saturday night.”

He looked at her evenly. Was this just concern or was he messing with her?

“How did you know …?”

“I was there.” She must’ve given him an odd look because he quickly added, “I mean, I was headed to dinner nearby. I was going to stop, but it looked as though you had someone helping you.”

Nash. “Right. My … friend was just a few blocks away when it happened …”

“You were lucky he was close,” Wincott said. He sounded sympathetic, but his words had a double meaning Sabrina didn’t like.

And he was watching her so closely. Too closely. “I’ve got to get to physics.” Sabrina lunged for the door and threw it open. She started breathing again only when she was back at her locker. With shaky hands she texted the others to keep Wincott at the top of the list.

*    *    *

As Z walked to Dr. Fields’s class, she decided the best way for her to get intel from him was to provoke an incriminating thought. But that would mean talking to him directly, and Nash had said not to do anything out of the ordinary. Z had never struck up a casual conversation with a teacher before. Plus, if Z was being honest, she was too scared to put herself right in his crosshairs.

As soon as she saw Jared idly walking toward Dr. Fields’s classroom, she had a stroke of genius that even Andrew would appreciate. It might be a little painful, but it would be fine. Like jumping into a cold swimming pool.

“Jared!” she called out. He stopped and turned, surprise registering on his face when he realized it was Z. They hadn’t spoken since their breakup, but Z wasn’t angry with him anymore. Yes, he’d been using her, but hadn’t she been using him, too? She kept him around mostly because she was bored and too apathetic to break up with him. Each had served a purpose for the other.

“Hey,” Jared said so enthusiastically that Z felt guilty about using him yet again. “How are you?”

“I need a favor.” It was unfortunate that she had to be so blunt, but she didn’t have much time.

“Um, okay,” he answered cautiously. “What is it?”

“I need you to ask Dr. Fields something for me.”

“Why can’t you ask him?”

“I just can’t. Will you do it?”

Jared pulled on the straps of his backpack, watching her carefully. “If you tell me why you dumped me out of nowhere.”

The first bell was going to ring any second, and she needed him to agree before they walked into class.

Z did what she had to do. She lowered her voice. “I dumped you because I know you’re not attracted to me.”

“What are you talking about? That’s not true.” He probably sounded halfhearted even to himself.

“Jared, I know you like dudes.” His face paled so quickly that it was as if a vampire had sucked his blood out. “So will you ask Fields or not?”

*    *    *

Dr. Fields smoothed down his white lab coat while Z eyed it closely for traces of blood. He wore that thing so much that she wouldn’t be surprised if he murdered someone in it.

“The lab we’ll be doing tomorrow consists of six stations,” Fields explained in a patronizing tone. “We’ll be working with magnesium ribbon and a few moderately sized pieces of mossy zinc.”

She locked eyes with Jared and he returned her pointed look with a grudging nod. She’d repeated over and over exactly what to say and how to phrase a follow-up if necessary.

“Every station will have crucible tongs,” Fields continued, “a flint striker and a Bunsen burner.”

A Bunsen burner, could that have made those burn marks on Lily and Devon? Suddenly she had an image of Fields standing over Devon, searing his skin with that bright blue flame.

At the end of class, students scrambled out of their seats, but Z stayed in hers, methodically packing up her books. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Jared walk over to Fields.

“Hey, Dr. Fields,” Jared said. “How did you like that John Lennon biography?”

“What are you talking about?” Fields asked, erasing the whiteboard. Z knew Jared’s constant questions annoyed Fields. She was counting on it, in fact.

“The John Lennon biography. I thought I saw you at the book signing for it in Pueblo two weeks ago. A Friday night?”

It was the night the medical examiner had determined as Devon Warner’s time of death. She’d been able to narrow it down to a four-hour window that evening.

“No, you didn’t. Couldn’t have been me.”

She’d never been so happy to hear the ringing in her ears.

Why the hell is he snooping into my personal life?

It wasn’t a specifically incriminating thought, but it wasn’t one she was about to dismiss.

Jared shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are you sure? Two Fridays ago. I swear I saw you there.”

“I’m sure. Friday nights, I stay in with my wife.”

He couldn’t have seen me that night. No one saw me.

Where had he been that he needed to lie about it? At the Springs with Devon?

Z slipped out of the room, surreptitiously wiping the blood from her nose so Jared didn’t see.

“So, are you, like, blackmailing me now?” Jared asked, once they were back in the hallway.

“Of course not,” Z answered, a little offended. “I don’t get why you’re hiding it, though. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“I just …” he trailed off. “I’m just not ready yet.”

Z had never voluntarily given anyone a hug in her life, but for a split second she wanted to give Jared one. She didn’t actually do it, but still. The sentiment was there.

“You going to tell me why I had to say that to Dr. Fields?” he asked.

“Nope. But I’ll give you twenty bucks if you say it to Mr. Schroeder, too.”

“How about a coffee sometime instead?”

“Done.”

Jared reprised his performance next period. Schroeder’s thoughts informed Z that he went to AA meetings on Friday nights in Castle Pines. Then Schroeder started thinking that he didn’t realize there was a new John Lennon biography out and he couldn’t wait to order it. Those didn’t exactly sound like the thoughts of a guilty man. Maybe getting sober had resolved the violence issues in his past.

Z texted Nash and the others.

Move Schroeder to the bottom of the list. Keep Fields at the top with Wincott.