The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(78)

Whitewood put his pen down and held up a stack of paper. “See this? It’s the names of all my students, their real names, along with a record of what they did to get here and how they’ve behaved since arriving.” He placed the stack on the desk. “I’ve been lookin’ at this list a lot.”

Whitewood paused as if waiting for Leif to respond, but he was too scared to speak. This was the man who killed Alicia. Those three other kids. Sure, he’d be stupid to kill Leif, but he could still harm him.

“That was quite a little speech you gave,” Whitewood said, now turning his rolling desk chair so he faced Leif head-on. “I liked it. Very much.”

Leif nodded, unable to say thank you.

“You see, that kind of thing only makes my job easier.” Whitewood stared at Leif for what felt like a full minute before standing and starting to pace around the room. “Now, what I did not like was that comment you made in class, the one that got you sent to the Roll. What was that word you used…?” Whitewood turned back to Leif. “Oh right. Cult. I hate that word.”

Leif nodded again.

“It’s got such a negative connotation.” Whitewood stepped toward the bed and sat down on the edge, inches from Leif’s feet. “What I have is a group. A group of people who help me accomplish what I need to accomplish. And you know what’s funny, Candidatus?”

Leif gave a small shake of his head.

Whitewood leaned toward him and said in a low voice, “This group doesn’t even actually know what it is that they’re helpin’ me do. Not really.” Whitewood laughed to himself.

Leif felt vulnerable sitting in bed under the covers, like it would be hard to defend himself if Whitewood decided to attack. Maybe that was the point.

“I know what you think of me. You and your friend are just so sure I’m a bad man.” Whitewood looked at Leif with disappointment in his eyes. “Shoutin’ about me in funeral homes. Cafeterias. Did it ever occur to you that maybe it’s not so simple?”

Leif blinked.

“Let me ask you this: Have you ever loved someone so much you would do just about anything for ’em?” Leif didn’t respond, but his presence in this school right now attested to the fact that he had. “That’s who this room is for, you understand? It’s for my daughter. This is all for my sweet, sweet Ruby.”

Leif had no idea what Whitewood was talking about, but the man seemed genuinely heartbroken.

“Look,” Whitewood said, suddenly getting to his feet and pointing to a photo of a blond girl on the wall. “This is my baby. Just look at her. Who wouldn’t do what I’ve done for that face?” Whitewood shook his head in pride and despair, his back turned to Leif. “I’m so close, Ruby!” he shouted at the photo.

Leif wasn’t sure what was happening, but he noticed that Whitewood’s pen was nearly within reaching distance.

A pen could be very helpful.

In a number of ways.

Leif quietly reached out his hand and wrapped it around the pen, pulling it under the covers.

“I will make this happen,” Whitewood said, his voice now steely. “No matter what it takes.” He turned around. “Now give it to me.”

“Huh?” Leif said, trying to play dumb.

“Gimme the damn pen.”

Leif put the pen into Whitewood’s gloved hand.

“Thank you for being so helpful, Candidatus,” Whitewood said, placing the pen in the orange mug on the desk.

He walked to the door and opened it, for three helpers entering with the Roll.

They picked Leif up and rolled him in the carpet once more, taping it closed with even more layers of thick duct tape than the first time.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be in there too long,” Whitewood said. “I’ve got bigger plans for you.”

Leif felt cold dread in his heart as the helpers left him on the floor and filed out of the room.

Whitewood was the last to leave.

“See you tonight,” he said, before flicking off the light and shutting the door.





22


“Y’ALL SURE YOU don’t want any more snacks?” GamGam asked, poking her head into the shed in her backyard where Janine, Donna, Rex, and Ben were gathered.

“I think we’re all set,” Janine said, feeling like a twelve-year-old as she gestured to the grapes, pretzels, and goldfish her grandmother had just set down in bowls on a wooden bench. She could’ve really used a tequila. “But thanks, GamGam.”

“Okay, Neenie. If you change your mind, just give a holler! This is so excitin’. My girls, makin’ a movie together again!”

“Yup,” Janine said, nodding awkwardly, camera on her shoulder, intent on making sure GamGam didn’t suspect they hoped to do much more than just make a documentary.

“It’s starting to rain out here!” GamGam said as she ambled away. “My gout’s gonna go nuts…”

They stood listening to the rain beat down on the shed’s corrugated roof, inhaling the smell of mulch as they waited for GamGam to move out of earshot. Donna took sips from a can of Diet Pepsi. Rex grabbed a handful of goldfish.

“All right,” Ben said, suddenly all business, “so as I was saying—”

“Hold up, kiddo,” Janine said. “Let me get the camera going.” She wasn’t sure how all this would play out, especially now that they were dealing with more than just a cult. They’d uncovered some kind of sick supernatural kidnapping scheme, and Janine had decided it would be wise to record as much of the planning as possible. If it didn’t result in a film, it could at least be evidence.