The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(66)

“Jesus. Jesus, Stevie.”

“You wanted to know,” she said.

“Does Janelle know?”

“No. I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Probably. She already hates David.” Stevie rubbed her temples. “Look, I have to do something. There’s one more thing I have.”

She unzipped her bag and removed the tin and set it on the floor.

“What’s that?” he said. “Are snakes going to come out of it?”

“It’s proof,” she said, “that the person who wrote the Truly Devious letter wasn’t the person who kidnapped the Ellinghams. I found it in Ellie’s room.”

Nate tipped back his head and laughed. She had never heard him laugh like this before. It was deep and bounced all around the mirrors and the floor.

“Now you are shitting me,” he said. “You’re in some secret deal with a senator, who is David’s dad, two people are dead, and you have proof about the Ellingham case.”

“This is why my anatomy grades are bad,” Stevie explained.

“You can’t be a real person.”

“Whatever happens to me here, this case has to get solved. If they take me away, I need you to help me.”

Nate pinched his nose and paced from one side of the room to the other.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Okay. Yes. Okay. Sure. Let’s solve the crime of the century. Why the fuck not?”

Stevie’s phone rang, and she pulled it from her pocket. The number was unknown.

“Oh God,” she said. “I think it’s him.”

“Who?”

“Edward King,” she said. The phone continued to ring. Stevie considered throwing it at the wall, then decided that it would be better to answer than be kept wondering forever.

But it was not Edward King. It was Larry.

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“Someone here?” she said.

Nate raised an eyebrow.

The first rule of Ellingham Academy was that no one was allowed at Ellingham Academy except the students and faculty. Even parents could only come at appointed times. The road could not withstand heavy traffic, and the school was big on fostering a creative spirit of learning, which meant no randos. Visitors were rare and had recently been only of the police variety.

So, her parents. They had come. It was over. She felt herself sag into the yoga mats.

“Dr. Fenton,” Larry said. “She’s waiting at the Great House for you.”

When Stevie arrived at the Great House, Fenton was there, leaning on the security desk, deep in conversation with Call Me Charles. And she had not come alone. Hunter sat in a chair by the door, looking like he wished he could sink into the floor. He was wearing some old jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and had the general air of someone who had been dragged along on someone else’s date.

“. . . it’s a real work of scholarship,” she was saying. “It far surpasses the original.”

“I’ll have to be sure to read it,” Charles said. For once, Captain Enthusiasm looked like he had been bested by someone much more exhausting than himself. He shifted uncomfortably and looked at his watch.

“Stevie,” he said as she approached. “Dr. Fenton has come up to—”

“I just wanted to check on some of these references,” Fenton interrupted, holding up the pad. “It looks like I may have come on a bad day.”

“Yes . . .” Charles said. “I think what would be best is if you came to my office and we’ll look at the schedule. We’ll be a few minutes.”

“Is there any chance my nephew could have a look around? He’s always wanted to see the place.”

Hunter continued drilling into the floor with his mind.

“I . . . think that would be all right,” Charles said, not sounding at all like this was all right. “Stevie, maybe you could take Hunter on a brief . . .”

He didn’t linger on the word, but the point was made.

“. . . tour of the campus. Dr. Fenton, if you could come with me . . .”

As they stepped outside, Hunter sighed loudly. The rain had given up a little bit, leaving the day gray and soggy, but good enough to walk in.

“Sorry,” he immediately said, “she made me come. I know we’re not supposed to be here. She knows it too. I’m really sorry. You don’t have to give me a tour. I can wait in the car.”

“No,” Stevie said. “It’s fine. Today is . . .”

“Bad,” he said. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Word spreads,” he said. “Is it true? They found that girl?”

Stevie nodded. She did not add that she had found that girl. In the gray of a new day, the knowledge settled on her shoulders. She had found a body, and she was . . . okay with it. Not great. Not happy. But she was holding her own. Some coping mechanism had been triggered.

“How did you get up here?” Stevie asked.

“She told the person at the front gate that she had an appointment with Dr. Scott. He must have said we could come up.”

“What do you want to see?” Stevie asked.

Hunter looked across the vista, past the Neptune fountain, at the wide expanse of the green.