ONCE INSIDE, PIX DUTIFULLY CHECKED THEM ALL IN AND WENT UP TO bed. It looked like Ellie and David were about to go to their rooms when Stevie said, “Who wants to play a game?”
Nate threw her a confused look.
“What game?” Ellie said.
“I never,” Stevie replied.
“I like that game,” Ellie replied. “David, come play. I’ll get us some wine. We can’t play it without wine.”
“Then we should play in someone’s room,” he said.
“Let’s go to my room,” Ellie said.
Nate gave Stevie a look, a concerned look, but Stevie nudged him on.
Ellie’s room, while technically the same size and shape as Stevie’s, was a kind of different world. The walls were covered in sketches and flyers written in French. There was a ratty rug on the floor that was embedded with a thick smell of incense. There were loads of mugs and cups and bowls from the kitchen, all dirty and some collecting mold. Pens and paper were all over the floor, and dried candle wax spilled on the edges of the furniture.
“You’ve all played, right?” Ellie said, settling herself on a cushion on the floor and pulling a bottle of wine out from between her bedside stand and bed. “You start by saying I never, and then you give an action. If you’ve never done it, you don’t drink. But if you have, you confess by drinking. It’s simple. I’ll show you. I’ve never made out with anyone in this room.”
She smiled broadly and looked over at David. David side-eyed her.
Neither Stevie nor David moved at first, then Stevie reached for the bottle and took a very tiny sip, just enough that the wine touched her lips and the scent flooded her nose. She set the bottle down, and David slowly reached for it.
Ellie laughed.
“And that’s how it’s done,” Ellie said. “Now you, Nate.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve never been to a dance before tonight.”
“You said that earlier,” Janelle said.
“Nothing in the rules about established facts,” he replied.
Janelle sighed deeply and took a short sip, then Ellie, then David.
Janelle was next. “I’ve never started a fire,” she said.
Only Ellie drank, and she took a long sip. Now it was David’s turn. He leaned back against Ellie’s bed and stroked his chin for a moment.
“I’ve never gone through someone else’s room,” he said.
Stevie paused, and then drank. This caused everyone to look at her, but no one said a word. It was Stevie’s turn now.
“I’ve never taken something that didn’t belong to me,” she said.
Janelle and Stevie didn’t drink. Nate did—at least he lifted the bottle.
“Pretend I drank,” he said.
“Oh, no,” Ellie said. “You have to drink. What did you take?”
“Who hasn’t taken something?” Nate said. “Everyone does that. How can you go through life without taking something that doesn’t belong to you, even by accident?”
“That’s true,” Janelle said, reaching for the bottle. “This game is kind of intense, and I don’t really drink, so . . . I may be out.”
“Then I’ll have to play,” Ellie said, reaching behind her to get Roota. The saxophone was resting next to her bureau.
Roota.
What had Ellie said about Roota? I had to have her. I didn’t have the money at the time, but I found a way. I made a little art, I got a little cash, I got Roota.
“How much was Roota?” Stevie said as Ellie went to put the mouthpiece in her mouth. “I was thinking about maybe getting an instrument.”
This got disbelieving looks from most present.
“About five hundred bucks,” Ellie said. “But worth it. She’s been a true friend.”
Five hundred dollars.
“And when did you get her? In the spring?”
“Yeah,” Ellie said, looking a touch more uncomfortable.
“You said you earned the money by making art. What did you do?”
Now Ellie was shifting in her seat a bit.
“Sold some drawings and stuff,” she said.
“Five hundred dollars’ worth of drawings,” Stevie said. “That’s really good. How many other times have you sold drawings?”
“A few,” Ellie said. “Look, if we’re not going to play and we’re not going to drink, everyone can leave.”
Nate looked at Stevie. He knew. He understood. Janelle started to get up, but Stevie motioned for her to stay.
“Why don’t we talk about Hayes for a second,” Stevie said. “It seems like we should, you know, take a moment.”
“Yeah,” Ellie said. “I’m not feeling that.”
“What are you doing, Stevie?” David asked. He was smirking but there was real concern in his voice.
“The thing about Hayes,” Stevie said, “he kind of took stuff that wasn’t his. He would have had to drink just then. He had other people do his work. Like me. Like Nate. Like Gretchen. Ever do any work for Hayes, Ellie?”
Ellie’s eyes were locked on Stevie now. They were such a light brown that they were almost a gold color.
“What are you even talking about?” Ellie said.
“Yeah, Stevie,” David said. “What are you talking about?”
“Weird thing,” Stevie said. “Hayes himself told me that he made The End of It All in Florida at the start of last summer. He lied. He made it on June fourth, and Ellingham closed for the summer on the sixth.”
“What?” Ellie said. “I . . .”
“I know this because I went through his room,” Stevie cut in. “I go through rooms. I’m the worst. I get curious when things don’t make sense. But I found some things out. I found out Hayes lied. He made the show here, and he didn’t make it alone. And last spring, he borrowed five hundred dollars from Gretchen, his ex-girlfriend, that he never paid back. And you paid five hundred dollars for making some art last spring and bought Roota.”
“You’re being a freak, Stevie,” Ellie said, but there was a tremble in her voice. “Get the hell out of my room. Everyone get the hell out of my room.”
“Something else,” Stevie said. “Sometime between the time Hayes died and the time I went into his room, someone had taken his computer. That person shoved it under the tub. It left three scratches down the front. Those scratches weren’t there before. There’s proof.”
“Stevie . . . ,” Janelle said, her voice fearful. “What’s going on?”
But Stevie had gone down the road now, and there was no going back. There was a thick atmosphere in the dark room, with the stink of old patchouli and paint. There was no coming back from this night, this sudden drilling into Ellie’s background and Hayes’s life and death. If she was wrong about this, she would have to pack up and go. She felt like someone walking out onto the branch of a tree, feeling it bounce and give under each step.
And she loved the feeling.
“One more thing. Beth Brave. She was Skyping with Hayes at the time Hayes was supposed to have been removing the dry ice from the workshop. Did he know about the dry ice? Was it his idea?”
Ellie’s face had taken on the cast of one of the masks on the wall of the ballroom—features wide, long, stretched in emotion.
“Get out of my room,” Ellie said. “Everyone get out of my room.”
David had shifted and was now half squatting. Janelle was moving back toward the wall. Nate, however, was like a rock, watching all of this with folded arms.
“Stevie,” David said slowly, “you know this thing that you’re saying is kind of intense?”
“I know,” she said.
“So you’d have to be pretty sure . . .”
“I am.”
“So I helped him with his show,” Ellie said. “God! I helped him with his show.”
The first piece slid into place.
“The movie,” Stevie said. “He was going to go to Hollywood and work with P. G. Edderton and take all the credit.”
“So? Do you think I wanted people to know I helped make a zombie show? I just needed money for Roota.”
“So why did you take his computer?” Stevie said. “The police were here. You had to see if there was evidence on there about your involvement because you knew . . .”
“I knew it didn’t look good. Hayes . . . Hayes said all kinds of dumb shit. Hayes did dumb things and he died and I’m sad about it and now you all need to get out.”
When no one moved, she got up herself, snatching her bag from the floor.
“Ellie,” David said, getting up and following her, “where are you going?”
He reached out for her, but she yanked away her arm. She hurried down the hall to the common room and was at the door in a moment.
Stevie scrambled to her feet and followed. Ellie threw open the door and hurried outside . . .
. . . right into Larry.
“I texted him about fifteen minutes ago,” Nate said, coming up behind Stevie. “I kind of didn’t want you to get us all killed.”
“Fair,” Stevie said, slumping against the wall. “That’s fair.”
The residents of Minerva were taken as a group to the Great House, where everyone was loaded into Albert Ellingham’s office. The night closed in around the house, and Larry drew the heavy curtains.
Charles looked like he’d been woken up and was dressed in a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater. Dr. Quinn was also present, wearing a stark black dress and looking like she had been called back from some other affair. Pix came down with them and oversaw the proceedings in an oversized sweater and army pants.
Ellie compacted herself into one of Albert Ellingham’s leather chairs, tucking her head into her knees. The events of the evening were recounted. When Stevie was finished, the room was silent for several moments.
“Element,” Charles said, finally speaking, “did you help Hayes write the show?”
“Sure,” Ellie said. “Fine. I helped him with his show. Who cares?”
“Didn’t that show make a lot of money?” Larry said.
“I have no idea,” she said. “I don’t care about money. I grew up on a commune. This isn’t about money. Not for me.”
“What’s this mean?” Charles asked.
“Just . . . this. Whatever.”
“Did you take Hayes’s computer?” Larry asked.
“I don’t want to talk about this. This is bullshit.”
“Element,” Larry said. “Did you take his computer? It’s a simple question.”
“I looked at it,” she said.
“Why?”
No answer.
“Did you put the dry ice in the tunnel?” Larry asked.
“No,” Ellie mumbled from her knees.
“There’s something here you aren’t saying,” Larry said. “You need to explain to us what’s going on. This is serious.”
Ellie pulled herself upright suddenly. Her eyes were full and tears were starting to run down her face.
“God, he was so dumb. Why did I pay attention to him?”
“What do you mean?” Larry pressed.
“This whole place,” she said, shaking her head and smiling grimly. “This whole place. Hayes and his stupid ideas. That’s what got him killed, his stupid ideas.”
“I have real concerns about going on with this,” Dr. Quinn said, raising a hand. “Ellie, I think you should stop speaking until we get you representation. And everyone else, let’s get you out of here.”
“I agree,” Charles said. “I’m going to call our general counsel and have them come here to consult with you. Larry, if you could take the others back to Minerva . . .”
Larry went over to say something quietly just to Charles and Dr. Quinn.
“Okay,” Charles said. “Dr. Pixwell, if you could take everyone to the teachers’ lounge. They can use the guest rooms if anyone needs to go to sleep.”
“We can’t go home?” Nate said.
“Let’s just keep everyone here for a while,” Dr. Quinn said. “Until we sort this out.”
“What, am I under arrest?” Ellie said. “Is Larry arresting me?”
“No,” Larry said. “And I agree. Let’s wait for the lawyer, Element. You wait in here, all right? Just sit tight.”
The change was a stark one—from a group of students recounting a dorm room conversation to the school administration, to full names and calling for a lawyer. Ellie suddenly looked very small and a bit wild, her eyes red and bright.
“I’m leaving,” she said, standing up.
“Element,” Larry said in a warning tone.
“You can’t keep me here.”
“Ellie,” Charles said, stepping in. His voice was calming. “I know this is frightening. But we’re getting you help. The very best thing you can do is be calm and sit. If you stay and talk to the lawyer, things will be better, but if you leave now . . .”
“There’s nowhere to go,” Dr. Quinn said. “We’re on a mountain and it’s the middle of the night. Ellie, sit.”
Ellie sat.
“We’ll get you something to drink, something to eat,” Charles said. “How about that? You could use it. Pix, could you . . .”
There was some awkward shuffling getting out of the room, as it wasn’t really clear what condition Ellie was in. The Great House creaked and groaned a bit in the fall wind. Ellie was left in Ellingham’s office. Once everyone else was outside the door, Larry turned the key in the lock.
“You’re locking her in?” Charles said.
“You’re damn right I am. And the French doors are secured from the outside.”
“She’s not a prisoner,” Charles said.
“No, but she may have killed someone. She’s safe in there.”
“Well, I’m getting her some food and water,” Charles said.
“Whatever you want,” Larry replied.
He gestured for a security officer to stand in front of the door.
“You,” he said to Stevie. “With me.”
He took her into the security office and shut the door.
“Sit,” he said.
He called for a police cruiser to be sent at once. When he got off the phone, he looked at Stevie gravely.
“You should have come to me,” he said.
“With what?” Stevie said.
“When you knew Hayes was on the phone when he was supposed to have been in the workshop.”
“Sorry,” Stevie said. “It didn’t seem like enough.”
“Enough for what? This was not your call. Do you realize what could happen here? It’s clear Element is hiding something. It’s possible she killed Hayes. More than possible. You don’t play with that.”
“I know,” she said.
Larry rubbed under his eyes.
“So you’ll wait here until the police come and we’ll sort it out.”
He got up and left, leaving Stevie in the chair to look at the security screens that showed nothing but darkness and the forms of trees and the occasional glowing pair of animal eyes. She went into a kind of trance for a moment.
The letter she had seen on her wall re-formed itself in her mind. It had body now. The words began to return. Riddle, riddle, on the wall . . .
. . . murder comes to pay a call.
That’s what it said. Maybe it was real. Maybe Ellie had done it? Maybe it was an art thing. Because there would be no reason to say you were going to murder someone, right?
There was yelling outside the door. Stevie sprang up and looked out. The door to the office was open, and Charles stood by it, holding a water and some fruit. The other security officers ran to the door.
“What do you mean?” Larry was saying. “Goddammit, she could get killed out there if she goes too far . . .”
“How did it happen?” Dr. Quinn said.
“She must have popped the panel,” Larry said. “How the hell did she know about the panel? Dennis, get to the basement. The passage leads to the basement. Lauren, Benny, get outside, check all the windows. . . .”
The panel. Stevie had read about this. There was supposed to be some kind of passage between Ellingham’s office and the ballroom, mostly used for jokes and games. It led to the basement. But apparently it was worked cleverly into the wall, not easy to see.
Ellie was gone.