These Deadly Games(95)
She raised her wrist, showing the thin red line where I’d accidentally cut her, the skin around it swollen and pink. “Too soon.”
I flushed. “Sorry about that…”
“Whatever.”
After a while, Zoey pulled the USB stick from her own laptop and inserted it into Andrew’s, fingers trembling. Then she crossed her arms. “Now, we wait.”
I sat across from her again, each of us shifting our weight awkwardly as the minutes passed, avoiding eye contact. There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn’t know if she’d believe any of it. Finally, I asked, “How long will this take?”
“I’m not sure. Depends how complex the password is—” But right then, someone opened the front door.
“Zoey!” her mother shouted. My heart jolted.
“In here!” cried Zoey. “Mom!”
Her parents appeared in the doorway, and Zoey stood and raced into her mother’s arms. “It’s okay,” her mother cooed, glaring at me over Zoey’s shoulder. “You’re safe now.”
Mr. Bloom stood between us like a barrier. “The police are on their way.”
My stomach plummeted. “What … How…” She must’ve texted her parents, either on her phone or laptop, and they’d zipped right home from their dental practice. She wasn’t trying to unlock that laptop. She didn’t believe me—not one bit.
And Caelyn was still out there somewhere, tied up and scared, and nobody was going to help me find her.
CHAPTER 40
Trying to explain everything that happened over the past day was like trying to teach a kitten to play chess, but way less cute. We all sat at Zoey’s long dining room table, even Randall and Lucia, who’d shown up shortly before Chief Sanchez since Zoey texted Randall, too, in case her parents didn’t get her message. Sanchez tried taking me to the police station, but the story started spilling out of me before anyone could convince me otherwise, even though Randall tried saying something about lawyers. But I was so desperate to find Caelyn, desperate for Sanchez’s help, I raced through my account, incriminating or not. By the time I finished, Lucia’s jaw was basically glued to the floor, and Randall and Zoey were pale as ghosts.
“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight…” Sanchez smoothed down his mustache, staring at his chicken-scratch notes. “You’re claiming that Dylan was actually Andrew Cullen, Brady’s brother—the boy who died in the Nelsons’ storage unit about five years ago. He enrolled in your school using fake documentation—”
“Presumably,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zoey and Randall exchange a wide-eyed look. I couldn’t tell if it was shock over Dylan’s true identity, or if they thought I’d lost it. I hadn’t yet explained why Andrew would have done all this, only that he had.
“Mmkay. Presumably. He attended said school for six months or so, then kidnapped your sister and texted you instructions—”
“It wasn’t texting,” I explained for what felt like the zillionth time. “He installed some messaging app on my phone when I wasn’t looking. I think he controlled it on there.” I motioned to the Chromebook. Zoey’s USB drive was still plugged in, but she hadn’t touched it since before her parents burst in. “Please, we need to find Caelyn—”
“How could you let Matty eat those brownies?” Randall suddenly chimed in. “You knew what would happen, and you let it.”
“No, I didn’t know.” I shouldn’t have rushed through the story; I was explaining this terribly. “It wasn’t clear why I was completing each task. I had no idea the brownies would be tainted.”
“You said Dylan told you to push Akira off the lookout point,” said Sanchez, flipping to the next page.
“Yeah, that time the instructions were explicit. But they usually weren’t.”
“But even though he instructed you to push Akira, she fell by accident?” Sanchez asked. Randall clasped his mouth, watching me with such a pained expression it tore my insides apart.
“Yes. She grabbed my phone to see one of Anon—Dyl—ugh, Andrew’s messages, and I couldn’t let her see what was happening. I tried getting it back, and we wrestled over it, and … she just fell.”
“Why couldn’t you let her see?” said Randall.
“I told you … Andrew said he’d kill Caelyn if I told anyone what was happening. What would you have done if it were Nessa instead?”
“I wouldn’t have—” But he cut himself off, raising a fist to his mouth. The truth was, he had no clue what he would have done. Nobody can ever know what they’d do until they’re in that position.
“Why’d you tie up Zoey, then?” Zoey’s mom spat angrily. “You said you lost your phone by then. No one forced you to do that—”
I winced, but Sanchez lightly touched her arm. “Ma’am, please, let me handle this.”
Oh, God. I was about to get handled. Arrested. Thrown in jail. Was the death penalty still a thing in Vermont?
“Why aren’t you arresting her?” Mrs. Bloom jabbed a finger at me. “She killed two of her friends, and she tried to kill my daughter—”
“I didn’t—” I started.