To Catch a Killer(89)

“Hmm. I don’t think that’s exactly true.” Victor adopts a teasing tone.

“Don’t say that. It’s totally true. You can ask anybody. Spam. Journey. Lysa.”

“Actually, I think there’s one more thing on Erin’s Wish List.”

I dab my eyes with the edge of my sheet. “Well, what then?”

“I think you’ve wanted a forensic class. And guess what, you’re getting that, too.”

I let out a shriek that’s so loud a nurse pops her head in the door. Victor nods to assure her that we’re okay.

“It’s true. The district was having trouble finding a replacement for your biology teacher and now they have to replace the principal, too. I’ll still have to get my teaching credential and figure out how to engage a group of zombie teenagers. But yeah, we’re going to change it up. Biology 101 will become Forensics. That’s the bad news; you get the class but me as your teacher. And, we’re working out a deal with Iron Rain PD to kick in some budget dollars to trick out the lab. They get a part-time criminalist, the school gets a teacher and a new lab. It’s win-win.”

Holy crap. “I’m also getting an uncle.”

“And I’m getting a family. I just hope you’ll be my goodwill ambassador to let all those kids know I’m cool so they won’t humiliate me again.”

“Well yes, of course. I’ll have your back; you can count on that. But, think about this … our school can now officially be called C.S. High—get it?”

Victor chuckles. “Funny.”

This is so huge I start planning out loud. “We should change our mascot from an acorn to a giant fingerprint. We can have crime-scene tournaments … and…”

“Whoa, slow down. It’s just one class. One step at a time.” He pulls a buccal swab from his pocket. “If you’re up for it, I thought I’d start with an official DNA sample. One I can send back to my buddies at my former lab for them to process and run through the DNA database. Are you ready?”

“I’m so ready,” I gasp.

Victor opens the swab and hands it to me. I scrub it on the inside of my cheek.

“Do the inside of your lip, too.” I scrub it around a little more and hand it back to him. He drops it into the tube and then into the box. He takes out a pen and writes my name on the side. Then he slides the box into a FedEx envelope. A nurse sticks her head in the room. He signals for her to wait a minute. “Okay, she’s going to check your oxygen level. If it’s okay, they’ll release you. I’ll be waiting right outside.”

As he slips out of the room, I jump out of bed and rummage around for my clothes. They’re beyond filthy, but I slip into them anyway. I could dance all the way home.… I wouldn’t even need a car.

I can’t sit still.

I open the door, intending to shower Victor with a huge hug to show my appreciation. However, instead of waiting right outside the door, he’s standing at the nurse’s station, a few feet away. His back is to me, but I watch in amazement as he breaks open another buccal swab and begins to scrub the inside of his own mouth. When he’s finished, he slides the swab into the tube, scrawls his name on the side, and drops it into the same FedEx envelope with my sample.

As he seals the envelope, I close the door quietly and press my back against the wall. Little sparks of happiness turn everything bright. What just happened?

Is it possible that Victor’s … no. Wait. Could he be? He must think there’s a chance. There’s no other reason for him to put his DNA swab into an envelope with mine. Right?

The door opens and Journey peeks his head in.

“Erin?”

Wrapped in his fist are the strings of a huge bouquet of balloons. It’s a challenge, but he manages to wrangle himself and all the balloons the rest of the way into the room. “Are you in here?”

I hold my fingers in my ears, waiting for a balloon or two to pop. Once he’s inside, I tap him on the shoulder. He whirls around and we hug, mashing the balloon strings between our bodies. Journey holds up the ribbons from the ends of the balloons, revealing a card tied there.

I touch the card. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” he says with a smile.

I slide out a white card embossed with our school logo and the word “PROM.”

“Will you?” Journey asks. He pauses to wet his lips nervously. “Go with me?”





42

“Erin! I need you down here, now.” Rachel’s voice is shrill and anxious. For the first time in a long time, I’m not frozen in fear that she’s stumbled over one of my deep, dark secrets or caught me in a giant new lie.

Rachel knows it all now. She knows how much I needed to talk about my mother and what happened to her. She knows about the attic, the box, my investigations. She even knows about Cheater Checks, though we have agreed to table those until I’m out of high school.

Victor brokered this landmark, two-sided confession, which he called our Family Fess-up Fest. Rachel had to come clean, too. And not just about her relationship with the chief. She had to fess up about my mother and her feelings of survivor guilt. Needless to say, the last couple of weeks have changed all of us.

With Victor around, Rachel is more relaxed, and the three of us function like a true family. I’m learning to open up and tell her the truth, and she’s learning not to hold back.