Kelley Armstrong - The Gathering

“Just relax,” he said, his breath hot against my ear.

His hand slid to rest against my hip. He stayed bent over my shoulder, as if trying to see through the slats in the door, his breath ruffling my hair. When I shifted, he put his other hand on my other hip. I shifted again.

“Stop squirming,” he said. “I didn’t wear my steel-toed boots.”

I stepped off his foot. “Sorry.”

“I know you hate small places. Just close your eyes and relax.”

I did and focused on the light footsteps. Chief Carling?

Drawers opened and shut. Papers rustled.

The intruder finished in the living room and went into the bedroom. More searching. Now Daniel was the one getting restless, fidgeting and shifting. When I tried to pull away to give him room, he jumped like I’d startled him, then murmured, “Just relax,” like I’d been the one fussing.

Finally, the intruder came into the study. Through the slats, I could make out only a dark figure, but I picked up a faint smell of—

A day ago, I’d have told myself I was smelling perfume or hair gel or fabric softener, something that would identify a person. Now I realized I was smelling the person’s scent.

I leaned forward. Daniel tried to stop me, but I waved him off. I bent, putting my face to the slats. It was a far from perfect peephole, but I could see enough to confirm my guess.

I pushed open the folding door and stepped out. “What are you doing here?”

Sam spun.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw me. “What am I doing here? I’m not the one hiding in—” Her gaze lifted over my shoulder. “Daniel?”

She looked from me to him.

I realized I was in a notorious make-out spot with Daniel. “We’re not—”

“What are you looking for, Sam?” he said, stepping toward her.

“Looking for? N-nothing.”

“You were really interested in Mina Lee,” I said. “You thought she was here because of you.”

“What? No.”

“Why are you going through her things?”

“None of your business.”

She brushed past me. As she walked away, I saw papers sticking out of her rear pocket. I snatched them. She yelped and spun, swiping at me as I backed out of reach.

“That’s mine,” she said.

“No, it’s not.” I held the papers up for Daniel to see. “Recognize the handwriting?”

He nodded. “It’s Ms. Lee’s.”

“You don’t know that.” Sam lunged to grab them, but I backed up again.

“She left a note for Daniel,” I said. “That’s her handwriting.”

Sam went still. “A note about what?”

I scanned the first page. “Not about you. This one is, though. Background notes. Where you’re from. What happened to your—” I looked up at her. “Your parents didn’t die in a car accident. They were—”

“Give those back,” she said, advancing on me.

“Your parents were murdered,” I said. “Why does everyone think—?”

She hit me. A right hook to the jaw. I flew off my feet. Daniel knocked her out of the way before she could hit me again. She grabbed the pages and took off.

Daniel started to go after her, then saw me and ran back, grabbing tissue. I tasted blood. As I winced, blood gushed from a split lip. Daniel pressed the tissues to my mouth.

He moved me back to sit on the edge of the desk. “Hold that. I’m going to find some ice.”

I shook my head. “Sam. Those pages—”

The roar of a dirt bike stopped me. I tried to get up, but he tugged me back onto the desk.

“She’s gone,” he said. “We need to stop the bleeding and get some ice on that.” He paused. “Are your teeth …?”

I ran my tongue over them, ignoring the sharp tang of blood. “Present and accounted for.”

“Good. Hold on then.”

I DID HOLD ON—TO the tissues. I didn’t stay put, though. With my free hand, I mopped up drops of blood from the hardwood floor. If this turned into a murder investigation, I definitely didn’t want my blood found in the victim’s house.

When Daniel came back, he had some ice wrapped in a dishcloth. As he exchanged it for the bloody tissues, he said, “I can’t believe she did that. I mean, Sam is way too fast with her fists, but to deck you? Over papers?”

I’d been thinking the same thing. I felt weirdly hurt—and not because my jaw ached. I always thought Sam and I got along okay. In the last few days, she’d even been friendly. Now I realized that was only because she thought I might have more information on Mina Lee.

I told Daniel that, then said, “I’m still shocked that she hit me. I know she took a swing at Rafe’s sister—” I stopped, realizing what I was saying, then continued. “She’s … brain damaged. That’s why he’s away from school a lot.”

“Looking after her.” Daniel wadded up the bloodied tissues inside clean ones, then stuffed them into his pocket. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“No one knows. And no one can know. She’s his guardian, and if people find out …”

“They won’t from me. You know that.” He leaned beside me, against the desk. “So, what happened? Sam didn’t realize Rafe’s sister was brain damaged and lashed out when she provoked her?”

“Not unless being extremely friendly can be considered provocation.”

Daniel shook his head. “The girl’s definitely got some loose wiring, and it seems to be getting looser.” He glanced at me. “Steer clear, okay?”

“I intend to.”

“So those sheets said her parents had been murdered? What else?”

“That was as far as I got. Her parents were killed in a home invasion, and it said Sam ‘survived,’ which must mean she was there. I guess that might explain some of the loose wiring. And why the Tillsons told everyone her parents died in a car accident.”

“Less traumatic.”

I nodded. Made sense, but it still bugged me. Why had Sam still been determined to get those papers before I read more? What else was in there?

“Bleeding’s stopped,” I said, taking the makeshift ice pack. “We should keep looking around. Sam found something. Maybe we can, too.”

We discovered where Sam had found the pages—under the mattress in the main bedroom. We hadn’t looked there earlier, and we wouldn’t have now if we hadn’t noticed the bedcovers were wrinkled.

Under the mattress was a file containing background info on every kid in our class. Parents’ names, date of birth, hobbies. Mina had put a lot of emphasis on hobbies, underlining some of them, like wrestling, boxing, and law for Daniel. The emphasis on sports and extracurricular interests would make sense … if you were filling out applications for a dating service. Why would a corporate spy care what local teens liked to do in their spare time?

“It’s a cover,” Daniel said. “If anyone gets close, she can pull out these, and the hobbies and stuff make it seem like she really is doing a general interest story.” He flipped through the pages. “She’s got everyone here. Even Rafe, though his is filled with question marks and notes for follow-up. Seems she wasn’t having much luck getting background on him. Weird.”

I kept my gaze on the pages, so he wouldn’t see that I knew it wasn’t weird at all. “Where’s my page?”

“Right—” He flipped through again. “Huh. Seems someone is missing.”

“Me?”

He didn’t answer until he’d laid out all the sheets on the bed, in alphabetical order. Everyone was there except Sam and me.

“I bet she grabbed yours, too,” Daniel said. “Sam, I mean. They weren’t in any kind of order, and she had a bunch of pages. Yours was probably behind hers.” He folded the sheets and stuck them in the backpack we’d brought. “Let’s keep looking.”