The Ivies - Alexa Donne Page 0,96

to know overpowers any good sense I have not to sneak around someone else’s private files. I click on the program icon. What balloons up onto the screen is indeed a murder board. It resembles the one Ethan and I made, but digital. Tyler has used some program that digitally re-creates a corkboard with little index cards on it. There’s one at the top for each of Tyler’s suspects, and then cards below it list key facts. Something sour shoots through me at the thought of Ethan and our investigation. All the lies. And all my doubts. I push it down. But there’s no way to escape Ethan now. Because he is on Tyler’s murder board.

My finger traces from the top of the screen down along the cards that list corroborating evidence.

Suspect he replaced me in SAT scheme

Wanted greater cut?

Cameras down from Bay to boathouse—snuck out of Whitley?

Strong enough to strangle Emma

I gasp, because suddenly I can see it. Ethan is part of the movie in my mind, stalking toward Emma in the rowing room, holding her down in the water, choking the life out of her. I shiver involuntarily.

But Ethan isn’t the only person who has a note card with their name in bold. My eyes flick back up to the top. Avery. Tipton. Paul, the night security guard at Claflin. Me. I gulp. Paul’s card is the sparsest. Strong enough to strangle Emma is repeated, and there’s a note about the cameras, but the only supporting motive is Secretly obsessed with Emma???

I’m drawn with morbid fascination to my own column. Half of the notations are lazy suppositions more than concrete evidence.

Jealous of her rich roommate?

Wanted her boyfriend?

A snort escapes before I can help it. Tyler’s dreaming if he thinks I have the hots for him. Pretty boys aren’t my style. I feel another pang over Ethan.

Then Tyler gets closer to good motives than I am comfortable with.

Found out about ID/SAT scam?

Outside Whitley on camera in the middle of the night—no alibi

To quell the itch that makes its way up my spine, I turn to the last two suspects. Avery and Tipton have a ton of supporting-evidence cards. I’m blown away that Tyler was also investigating this whole time. That he got way closer than I did. It’s all there. Tipton and Emma’s make-out spot. That Emma had to have a second phone—there’s a footnote that says Find? There’s even an index card that says, Dismissed from last job for being inappropriately casual with students, and one that reads, Earring?

Then there’s Avery’s column. It’s the longest.

Said she’d kill Emma for getting into Harvard

Fistfight at party

Reputation for being vindictive

Spoiled rich girl

Jealous of Emma and me?

Met Emma at the boathouse after the party

Last person to see her alive

It echoes, like an old-fashioned record skip. Last person to see her alive. Really, that pegs all the Ivies, doesn’t it? And how does Tyler know?

The sound of footsteps on the antique walnut flooring in the hallway makes me jump half a foot. Shit. Hastily I push back from the chair. I close the suspects document and run to the first and closest place I can think of—the bathroom.

Once inside, however, I curse my stupidity. There is nowhere to hide in this ridiculous rich-person bathroom suite. The walk-in shower is all glass. The spa tub is at an angle—cowering in the bottom of it won’t work. There are no closets or deep cupboards. I’m a large human; hiding is a challenge.

The best I can do is duck next to the toilet. It’s a shit plan, but it’s all I’ve got.

I strain to hear as someone enters the bedroom. I know they’re in there—I heard the door open and close—but then comes a stillness. Hope soars in my chest. No drunken giggles or the sound of bodies hitting the bed. And I don’t hear anyone moving about the room, inspecting. They might not even come into the bathroom—

The door opens, and then Tyler is heading straight for me, one hand tugging down his zipper, and I shriek something about not showing me his penis, please, as I squint my eyes shut.

“Olivia, what are you doing in my bathroom?”

“Peeing?”

“You’re fully clothed.”

“Thankfully, right?” I ease one eye open, then the other. Tyler’s zipped up his pants to preclude any nudity. “I know it’s weird. I’m sorry. I came down here to get away from the noise, but I know it’s a huge invasion of privacy to go into your room, and then I heard