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I was finishing up, getting ready to take my plate into the kitchen, when Kasey tensed.
“Your phone’s ringing,” she said.
I sat still and listened, and made out the soft ringtone coming from my bedroom.
“Probably Jared,” I said, about to push my chair back and stand up. Then I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Kasey was watching me.
So I stayed in my seat.
A second later, Lydia came wandering out of the hallway. “Who do you know with a 703 area code?”
I thought for a second.
Agent Hasan.
It took a huge effort not to rush away from the table.
Feeling like I was moving at quarter speed, I took my dishes to the kitchen, rinsed them and stuck them in the dishwasher, and was about to hurry down the hall to my bedroom—
When the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Kasey said, from her place at the table.
“No!” I called. “I’m right here.”
I peered through the peephole, and my stomach knotted.
Lydia had stuck her head through the door. She pulled it back, eyes wide. “She looks mean.”
Agent Hasan did look mean. She had dark hair in a severe cut that hung halfway between her chin and her shoulders. And every strand was perfectly in place—not even her own hair would test her authority.
Her eyes were brown and almost almond-shaped, and her eyebrows seemed to be perpetually raised in a
“Stay away from her,” I whispered to Lydia. “I don’t know what she could do to you.”
Lydia took a step back from the door and disappeared.
I braced myself, then called out, “I’ll be back in a few minutes!” to my family.
And I slipped out the door—out of the frying pan…
Straight into the bonfire.
* * *
Just like I’d sensed that she was there to see me, Agent Hasan seemed to sense that I didn’t want my family to know she was there. So when I started walking down the sidewalk, away from the house, she followed me.
“Sorry to barge in.” The hint of amusement in her voice told me it was a lie. She enjoyed knowing that she had freaked me out. “It’s just that you didn’t answer my call.”
She must have already been in the neighborhood when she called. Which meant she’d gone to the trouble of coming all the way to Surrey—just to see me?
“What do you need?” I asked.
“I kept thinking about our conversation,” she said.
I held my breath.
She turned to look at me, squinting her eyes a bit. “About how interesting it was that you would call me and suggest that there was something out of the ordinary going on—when you had no concrete reason to think so.”
My lips were glued shut. If she thought she could trick me into incriminating myself, she was dead wrong.
“And I’m not a patient person,” she said. “So when something like that gets in my head, I don’t want to sit around and see if anything comes of it.”
It was a breezy night, and Silver Sage Acres is a wind tu
“I’m sorry to waste your time,” I said. “You were right. I was just being paranoid.”
“That would definitely be the more satisfactory outcome.” She didn’t say more satisfactory than what—or for whom. “But I do appreciate that you called me. It shows that you understand my role. And it gives me a chance to show you how important it is to me to help you stay out of trouble.”
Right. Help me stay out of trouble. There was a threat in there, and you couldn’t even say it was a veiled threat. It was loud and clear: I’m watching you.
“All right,” I said. “Well, thanks.”
She stopped and looked down at me, smiling like she’d just won the lottery but wasn’t pla
What had she seen? What did she know?
We started back toward my house.
You’re almost there, I told myself. Just stay cool for a few more minutes and you’ll be fine.
At last, we reached my front walk. I glanced up at the front window, anxious to get rid of Agent Hasan before my family noticed her presence.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m going.”
She made a half turn away from me, then spun back.
“By the way.” She reached into her pocket. “I think you dropped something.”
Her fingers uncurled, revealing my missing lens cap.
We both stared down at it for a moment, then she reached over and tucked it into the pocket of my jeans.
“You should really keep better track of your things, Alexis,” she said. “You never know where they might end up if you don’t.”
I wouldn’t let myself be scared speechless by her, so I forced out an abnormally loud “Thanks.”
“That, for instance, was found fifty-four feet from Ashleen Evans’s body.”
I didn’t answer. My throat tightened.
“But I’m sure you don’t know anything about it.”
I had to stay strong, or I’d crack into a million pieces. “No,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Well, good.” Agent Hasan wiped her hands on her jacket. “Because I would really hate to think that you were part of the problem.”
I started for the stairs.
“See you ’round, Alexis,” she called.
I walked inside, afraid to look back over my shoulder.
THE NEXT DAY, I went to the Wingspan office before school started. Elliot was already there, wearing her prinCeTon sweatshirt.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“How many different college sweatshirts do you own?” I asked.
“Not sure. Fifteen?” She shrugged. “I’m nurturing my aspirational self.”
Um, okay.
She glanced up from the layout she was marking on. “You have the cheerleader shoot tomorrow morning, right?”
I nodded, looking at the intricate color-coded schedule on the whiteboard.
“Did you ever find the janitors to get the Dumpsters moved?”
“Oh, no.” I slapped a hand to my forehead and sat down. “I totally forgot.”
“Never mind,” Elliot said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry. I should have been more specific.”
“I can do it,” I said. “Their office is that little shed out by the field, right?”
She shrugged. “I don’t mind getting some fresh air.”
“Are you sure?”
“You know how most people say ‘no offense,’ but they secretly hope it does offend you? I swear I’m not doing that.” She capped her red pen and set it down. “No offense, Alexis, but you look terrible lately. I’d rather you just relax a little than start passing out during photo shoots.”
There was never any changing Elliot’s mind, so I nodded.
“So…Chad said you had a little ‘episode’ the other day.” From the way she went back to her layout and the carefully measured tone of her voice, it seemed like she was intent on not making a big deal out of it. “Of course, Chad’s a busybody, so I wouldn’t put it past him to exaggerate.”
I shook my head and let my finger trace the edge of a desk. “He probably didn’t exaggerate,” I said. “If having me on staff makes people uncomfortable, then I’ll quit.”
Elliot practically threw her pen down. Her eyes were fiery and her voice was almost a growl. “Did he say that to you?”
“What? Chad? No, no—he was pretty nice, actually. Weirdly nice.”
She sat back and relaxed.
“It’s my own idea,” I said. “I know a lot of people at school know things about me—or think they do—and I don’t want it to be uncomfortable for you.”
“Alexis, can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
“If I say yes, that would make it solicited, right?”
She gri
“Thanks.”
She waved me off. “You’re talented. You’re smart. You’re fu
“Well, I—”
“Hush. I didn’t start my advice yet. Here it is: Find the people who treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Tell everyone else to go to hell. And don’t look back.”