Truly Devious (Truly Devious #1) - Maureen Johnson Page 0,79
to be the thing that did it. Hayes should have done it. But, as Larry explained earlier, things didn’t happen the way you wanted. She brushed a tear away with the back of her hand and tried to keep the tremble out of her voice.
“Look,” she said, “it was . . . Can we just talk about it when you’re here?”
There was a grudging agreement on this. Stevie managed to get off the phone. Larry’s expression had softened a bit from jagged rock to slightly less sharp and pointy rock.
There was a noise overhead, like the noise from the night before. Larry and Stevie looked up at the same time and saw a red and white helicopter.
“Press,” he said. “It’s out. They’ll be at the gates.”
He exhaled loudly and started walking fast.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ve got to get you back to Minerva and then handle this.”
“I lost my mind for a minute,” she said. “I was scared for Janelle. But I won’t. I promise I’ll go right back and I won’t stop on Go or collect two hundred dollars or anything. I’m sorry. You can do what you need to. You can trust me.”
Larry regarded her for a moment.
“All right,” he said. “But if I find out otherwise, you’re burnt with me. And I can check.”
She turned to walk off, to prove her word, but Larry called her back.
“Take care of yourself, Stevie,” he said. “Go be with your friends. Even if you didn’t like the guy, this is no time to be alone.”
“Who said I didn’t like the guy?” Stevie asked.
“Twenty years with the state police. I was a detective. You get a knack for these things.”
“You were a detective?” Stevie said. “Seriously?”
“Fifteen years on homicide.”
“Why did you stop?” Stevie asked.
“Because I opened too many doors and saw too many terrible things,” he said quietly. “And some of those things never leave you. Every police detective has something they carry with them, something they see when they’re trying to go to sleep at night. Twenty years is plenty. I know you are interested in being a detective, but don’t play at being one, do you understand? No sneaking around behind the police.”
“I know,” she said.
“We understand each other?”
“Yeah,” Stevie said. “I think we do.”
Stevie returned to Minerva feeling numb. Her parents would definitely be a problem, and going home was a real possibility, if Ellingham didn’t kick her out first. She looked at her building in a new light as she approached the big blue door. Maybe she was never meant to be here very long. Mistakes got made all the time. Fate had plans. . . .
No.
Stevie was not one of those people who thought fate decided for her. Fate was making choices. Fate was at least trying. The school hadn’t kicked her out yet, and her parents hadn’t taken her home yet. And something was going on. If Hayes had taken the pass, if Hayes had taken the dry ice . . . what the hell was he doing with it down in the tunnel?
She entered the common room still thinking about this. No one seemed to have moved from where she’d left them. Someone had built a fire in the fireplace, so the room was hot. The fire gave it a completely new character—the woodiness, the intimacy of it. It sounded like glass as it crackled.
“You okay?” Janelle asked. Nate turned as well.
“Yeah,” Stevie said, pulling off her hoodie.
She looked around for where to sit. Ellie and David were still on the sofa, but there was space between them now. Ellie had a black notebook in her lap and was drawing. David had his computer, but again, he looked right at her.
Stevie caught his eye and looked away quickly. She sat at the table.
“Did they tell you what happened?” Nate said.
Stevie just shook her head.
“So are we going to be allowed out?” Nate asked.
“I guess so,” Stevie said. “Soon. My parents called me. I guess the school let them know? So your parents will know soon. Everyone is going to know.”
“Yeah,” David said. His voice caused Stevie to start. She saw Janelle take this in, and look from Stevie to David curiously. “The word is out. So we’re going to be knee deep in counselors soon.”
He would not stop looking at her. And not just looking. It was a penetrating, unwavering look.
“I better call my parents first,” Janelle said, grabbing her phone. “Can we do that? Do you think we can?”