Todd Strasser - Blood on my hands

It was an order, and I knew I had a choice. Follow it, and remain at the table, or disobey, and be cut loose.

I watch from the bridge over the tracks while those four people below stand around not taking trains. Strangely, instead of feeling angry at Jerry, I feel bad. When my phone suddenly became untraceable, did the police figure out that I’d gone to his house and that he’d helped me? I wouldn’t be surprised if they threatened to arrest him if he didn’t cooperate.

But what if I’m wrong? Those four people could be standing on those platforms for a hundred reasons that have nothing to do with me. But how can I know for certain? I have an idea and take out my cell phone and, as promised, send Jerry a text: Got the $$. Thx!

Down on the platforms nothing happens. I wait and watch. One of the men is still reading the paper. The woman appears to be thumbing a BlackBerry. So it looks like I was wrong and there is such a thing as being too paranoid. I decide to ride over to the bike rack. From there I’ll take the stairs down to the warming room and get the money.

Then, all at once, the people on the platforms press their fingers against their right ears. It looks very strange until I realize what it means. They’re all wearing earpieces.

The next thing I know, they’re jogging quickly down the platforms. They must be headed for the warming room. The two on the northbound side will probably take the walkway under the tracks to get there.

But that’s not what happens. The two people on the southbound platform jog right past the warming room. The two on the northbound platform pass the entrance to the walkway.

And that’s when I realize they’re headed for the bridge… and me.

Tuesday 4:39 P.M.

I QUICKLY LOOK around. Traffic passes behind me on the bridge. There’s the heavy low grumble of a diesel engine as a garbage truck approaches. In the meantime I can hear slapping footsteps coming up the steps from the platform.

The garbage truck is passing. It has one of those big scoop-shaped bins at the rear.

I toss the cell phone into it.

A moment later, the first earpiece man reaches the bridge, breathing hard, his right hand still pressed against his ear.

He looks around, then stares right at me!

I feel myself freeze, my hands gripping the handles of the bike so hard my knuckles turn white, my heart racing.

There’s a loud screech as a police car flies around the corner and starts to speed up the bridge in our direction. At the same time, the earpiece man starts to run toward me.

Something heavy sinks inside me. Even with this bike, there’s no way I can get away from them. This is it. It’s all over. I’m caught.

The night after Katherine ordered me to tell Mia she couldn’t sit with us any longer, Dakota called.

“I heard what happened at lunch today,” she said.

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t know what else to do except acknowledge what she’d said and wonder why she was calling me.

“You know it’s all about power. She’s the most evil, nasty, insecure person ever. She has to constantly reassure herself that she’s in control, and the only way she can do that is by making people do things for her that they don’t want to do. You think it’s any surprise that she chose you to tell Mia not to sit with us anymore? No way. She chose you because she knew you’d have the hardest time doing it.”

I listened silently.

“And you know why you’ll do it?” Dakota asked in a condescending tone.

“No,” I said, almost befuddled by the meanness I felt emanating from her. We might have shared a common frenemy, but that clearly did not make us friends.

“Look at what she’s already gotten you to give up,” Dakota said. “You’ll do it because you have nothing left to lose.”

Tuesday 4:41 P.M.

WHEN THE POLICE car races past me, I spin around and realize why: it’s chasing the garbage truck.

Only the officer inside the car doesn’t know he’s chasing the truck. He’s just following the signal from my cell phone, which appears to be going in the same direction.

But that still leaves the man with the earpiece, who is twenty feet away, running straight for me. I tense and brace myself.

He runs right past… in the same direction the police car was going.

Feeling like I ducked a bullet aimed straight for my head, I will my body to relax, but my heart is still pounding. Trembling, hoping I can keep my balance, I get on the pink bike and begin riding in the opposite direction. I need to get away from the bridge as fast as possible, before that police car catches up to the garbage truck and they figure out what I did.

Only I have no idea where I’m going.

Moments later I’m riding down the sidewalk through town, passing stores and nannies pushing small children in strollers. It feels strange to ride around disguised as a young girl, stranger still that the disguise is actually working. It’s like some kind of weird out-of-body experience. As if I’ve done such a good job of disguising myself that I’m not Callie anymore. But what good is it doing? The police are still looking for me. I’ve thrown away my phone and have no way of communicating with anyone. I have no money for food and no place left to hide, and I’m still no closer to proving who really killed Katherine.

So maybe there’s no point in trying to hide. The official opening of the new town center is scheduled for tomorrow. I know that Slade and the rest of the crew will be working hard today to get everything ready. Maybe my only chance now is to get closer.

When I get there, the landscapers are planting shrubs and rolling out thick green sod to create a perfect lawn. Plumbers, electricians, and carpenters stream in and out while a group of firemen uses one of the ladder trucks to hang celebratory red, white, and blue banners over the truck bays.

I ride the pink bike around to the back, where vans and cars are parked in the new lot. There’s Slade’s pickup. The tarry scent of fresh asphalt in my nose, I leave the bike on the edge of the lot, then wait until no one is looking and scramble into the truck. Slade’s pickup has an extended cab, which means there’s a narrow row of seats in the back. It’s supposed to be large enough to carry passengers but there’s barely enough legroom for anyone taller than five feet, which makes it a perfect place to hide.

I slide into the backseat and look around. Something’s different and it’s not just the green-and-gold Fort Benning, Georgia, parking sticker. It’s the odor of stale cigarette smoke.

But now my attention is drawn to something else. Through the windshield I see the back door to the town center open, and Mia and her father come out, accompanied by a prim blonde woman wearing a dark suit and carrying a briefcase. I’ll bet anything she’s a lawyer.

Does Mia have more to do with this than I know? More than she’s told me?

More people come out. Oh my God! It’s Griffen and two men in dark suits. Is one his father and the other-the one with the thick brown leather satchel-a lawyer? They all stop in the parking lot and talk in a relaxed manner that makes it appear as if they’re familiar with each other. As the conversation continues, Griffen steps close to Mia and slides his arm around her waist.

They know each other? Well enough for him to put his arm around her? It’s mind boggling. How is this possible?

Hidden by the tall front seats and the darkly tinted rear windows in the pickup, I have to wonder. Is Griffen the reason Mia’s attitude toward Katherine has changed recently? Was he what she was referring to when she said there was life outside Soundview High? One thing’s for certain. They both had excellent reasons to despise Katherine.