The Ivies - Alexa Donne Page 0,80

lavender case is shattered. I can only hope the phone itself didn’t take too much damage.

And then I’m spent, wrung out. I roll back, leaning heavily against Bay Hall as my head throbs and my throat burns with fire. Cataldo hauls Tipton up, reads him his Miranda rights as she handcuffs him, then grabs and pockets the phone. And a blurry figure comes into view.

“Olivia, oh my god, are you okay?” I try to focus as hands fuss around me, finally pulling me to my feet. Once I’m up, I see her.

“You’re bleeding,” Avery offers.

I touch my cheek. Indeed, I have a dripping scrape from one of the many times Tipton flung me on my face. I also reach careful fingers behind my head, expecting warm, wet blood, but it seems I merely have a really nasty bump.

“What are you doing here?” I sound as if I swallowed a toad.

“I saw you head this way,” Avery says. She shifts uncomfortably, looks away. “I know you hate me, and I kind of hate you right now, too, but I don’t want you dead.”

“I don’t hate you.” I hesitate. There is so much to say, that needs to be said, but my throat hurts like a mofo, and I’ve watched enough procedurals on TV to know that Cataldo’s going to need to take my statement. I should probably have my head checked out. “Can we talk later? Really talk?”

Avery nods.

“You two! Follow me,” Cataldo barks, and we obey. With one hand on Tipton’s cuffed arms, she frog-marches him around Bay as she makes a call on her cell phone with the other. We hear her inform the station she’s bringing someone in.

Headmistress Fitzgerald rushes up to us as we round the corner, reach the main path. “What is going on here?”

“Ms. Fitzgerald, hello, good to see you.” The detective injects false cheer into her tone. “Please see that these two report to the station after Miss Winters sees a medical professional.”

“You can’t just arrest my employees, Ms. Cataldo,” Fitzgerald sputters. “Where is your warrant?”

“Mr. Tipton slept with a seventeen-year-old student, who is now dead, and assaulted Miss Winters. I’d say that’s cause.”

“Well…goddamn.”

Cataldo might now be my favorite person for making Fitzgerald lose her cool.

Next up in the gawping parade is Tyler, who comes at us practically at a run. “Oh my god, did he do it? Did he kill my Emma? You monster!” Fitzgerald has to hold him back to stop him from launching himself at Tipton. I use the opportunity to retrieve my phone from the grass in front of Bay.

“I didn’t do anything. You’ve got the wrong person,” Tipton whines as he trips along behind Cataldo. I’m satisfied to see he’s now the one being dragged against his will. The detective makes no effort to increase his comfort, though I suspect it’s more a matter of damage control than cruelty. Everyone from the memorial is crowded around us now, people pointing at Cataldo and Tipton, their whispers raging like a wildfire. I hear “Emma” and “killer” and “Olivia wasn’t crazy” behind my back. I bristle at the word. And then I groan. The adrenaline of Tipton’s attack is fading, ebbing to leave an ache all over my body, a sudden exhaustion.

Avery puts an arm around my shoulders and steers me in the direction of the parking lot. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. If that’s okay with you, Headmistress?”

“Yes, yes, good thinking, Miss Montfort,” she says. “I have to confer with the board and compose a message to the parents.”

“Can I go, too?” Tyler asks, though he’s already pushed forward to walk alongside us, making the request moot.

“Yes, I’m sure your sister will appreciate the company.”

“Stepsister,” Avery mumbles under her breath, so only I can hear. But I catch her sniffling, too, as we slowly make our way to her car. We’ve caught Emma’s killer, and the grief of her death bubbles up anew. Even though this means closure, I don’t think we will ever truly recover.

I do not have a concussion, or any other serious damage, so the ER doctor gives me a painkiller for my throat and head and sends me on my way. Unfortunately, instead of going back to school, we drive to the police station in town for questioning, as ordered. I’m there until after midnight, unraveling the past few days and all the threads of my amateur investigation for Cataldo. When I get to the secret room in the boathouse and Avery’s burned