Page 12 of The Executioners Three
Perhaps because she was positively effervescent on adrenaline and Kyle’s smiles, she decided to take the night one step further.
“I’m going to the dorms,” she told Divya. “So if I’m not at the gate when you leave, then wait for me at the cars.”
“What?” Divya closed her garbage bag and shimmied toward Freddie. The stench of trash curled into Freddie’s nose. “Why do you want to go to the dorms?”
“Because if I can figure out which room Theo Porter is in, then maybe I can get the prank book back.”
“By breaking in ? We’ve already committed enough crimes here to permanently smear our college applications, thanks.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“How?”
“Instincts, Div. Instincts.” Freddie reached over a hedge of sunflower seeds and Quick-Bis wrappers to pat Divya’s shoulder. “It won’t take long, I promise.”
“Okay, but what if it does take long? Are you gonna walk through those creepy woods by yourself? You do remember the crows? And then how Laina had her migraine?”
“Yeah, about that.” Freddie chewed her lip. “You think she’s alright now? Ever since we left the forest, she’s been a bit…”
“Intense?”
Freddie had been thinking possessed, but Divya’s word was probably better. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Keep an eye on her while I’m gone, okay?”
Then before Divya could stop her, Freddie spun away.
“This is why you always find dead bodies!” Divya hissed at her back. “You have no common sense .”
Freddie didn’t respond, although she did think this comment was unfair. After all, she’d only ever found one dead body, and it had only been his shoes. Besides, what kind of future sheriff would she be if she was afraid of an old campus filled with rich kids?
After a quick skip along more perfect pathways, Freddie found the dormitories. They were spread out over the original stables, carriage house, and servants’ quarters. All three buildings were within sight of the main estate, with its excess of gables and arches and towers…
Freddie cut in close to the former stables, creeping toward the first lit room. Xena was once again tucked inside her vest because Freddie didn’t need to look like a Peeping Tom, thanks. Especially since almost no one seemed to have their blinds closed.
Like, come on, people. Just from a safety perspective, that was silly. And from a Rival-Student-Looking-for-a-Stolen-Logbook perspective, it was very silly.
Freddie was almost to the end of the stables with nary a Theo Porter found, when she heard music drifting into the cold night.
I never want to hear you sa-a-ay
I want it tha-at way!
Freddie’s expression soured. Ugh, Backstreet Boys. NSYNC was so much better. Everyone knew that, and Freddie had half a mind to throw rocks at the offending room, just so they’d turn off Nick Carter’s yowling.
Except that was when Freddie reached the source of the music… and saw who was in the room next door.
Theo Porter.
Dancing.
And not just any dance, either, but the actual choreography from the actual Backstreet Boys’ music video.
A laugh burst from Freddie’s lungs. She had to clap a hand to her mouth to hold it in. Xena dropped an inch inside her jacket. Oh my god, oh my god. This couldn’t be happening. Mr. Perfectly Polished was a BSB fan—and not just a low-grade one, either.
She crept as close to the window as she could get without stepping right into the light pouring from his room. She craned onto her toes, peered cautiously within… But Theo’s eyes were closed, and he was totally lost in the song.
You are, my fire! My one, desire!
Loath as Freddie was to admit it, Theo wasn’t half bad. Possibly swoony, in fact, with his uniform tie gone and the jacket flung on the bed. (If you could look past the devil horns and forked tongue.)
Prank log, she reminded herself. Find the prank log. It took every ounce of self-control that she possessed to tear her eyes away from Theo Porter and not yank out Xena for some blackmail-worthy photos. She searched what little she could glimpse of his room.
Fortunately, he was tidy. Almost too tidy. There were no knickknacks on his desk. No photos or posters on the wall. Just a lofted bed and a desk with a computer and a stack of textbooks…
And at the bottom of the books was a familiar blue canvas spine.
“Bingo,” Freddie murmured, a grin splitting her face. She had no idea how she’d get in there, but now she at least knew where the sacred logbook was.
Freddie was all set to turn and bolt for the gate, when the music cut off. Theo paused mid-croon. His eyes opened. He looked at the window.
He looked at Freddie.
For a split second, she simply stood there, gawping uselessly while he gawped uselessly at her. Then he was moving while she was still trapped in place. It was a real slow-motion, life-flashing-before-her-eyes kind of moment.
Even when Theo shoved open the pane, Freddie simply stared.
He squinted down at her.
“Gellar?” he sputtered. Fury hardened the lines of his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
At the sound of Theo’s voice, Freddie finally snapped out of her Shutdown Mode. “Mr. Porter,” she cried, opening her arms. “Fancy meeting you here!”
“What’s going on?” Theo’s gaze darted up, down, sideways—clearly estimating if he needed to climb out of the window.
“Do you really want to know why I’m here?” Freddie smiled her boldest smile, and with all the melodrama she could squeeze into her body, she mimicked Theo’s dance moves. “You are, my fire! My one, desire!” Freddie flung her arms to the sky. “I want it tha-at way!”
He looked like he was going to murder her. He lifted a foot onto the windowsill.
But she was already spinning.
Theo’s shouts chased after her. Something about “This isn’t over!” and yada yada yada. Empty threats, really, since the Prank Squad had already worked their magic.
By the time Freddie reached her friends at the gate (how cool that she could actually call them her friends, plural), she was gasping, sweating, and pretty sure Xena’s bouncing had left a bruise on her boobs. “I saw the logbook!” she squealed. “I know where it is!”
“Yesssss!” Laina thrust a fist into the air and whisper-shouted, “Lumberjacks, ho !” just like the ThunderCats.
The boys chest-bumped, Cat did an impromptu handspring, and Freddie and Divya danced the Macarena. Then, because there was still that pesky risk of getting caught, they pushed through the gate and hurried into the woods.
Where the excitement died.
It was worse than when they’d been doused with cold water at the Quick-Bis. One moment, everyone was as rowdy as a pack of five-year-olds trick-or-treating. The next moment, they were silent and stiff, glancing over their shoulders every few steps.
Laina still took the lead, marching at a speed that left everyone half-jogging to keep up. Not that Freddie minded. Her gut was waking up, and she wanted out of here . It felt like cold fingers tickling inside her belly. Like the fog was back and stroking against her neck.
Only once, halfway through the forest, did anyone speak. “Stop looking at me,” Laina snapped at Cat.
“I’m not looking at you,” Cat insisted, but even Freddie could hear the lie. Because everyone was looking at Laina—whenever they weren’t wincing into the terrifying trees.
“Bull,” Laina muttered. “You’re looking at me like I’m gonna wig out again. I mean, not that I wigged out before. You guys know I get those headaches.”
“Of course,” Cat murmured, and they all fell into silence.
Once back at the cul-de-sac, Kyle asked: “Meet at my place?”
“Sounds good,” Luis answered before shutting himself into Cat’s car. Laina gave a thumbs-up, and in seconds, only Kyle and Freddie were left behind.
“I just want to make sure the leftover corn syrup is secure,” Kyle explained with an angelic grin next to his Jeep.
“Why don’t I do it?” Freddie suggested. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Kyle… but, well, she also didn’t trust Kyle. “Go ahead and get the car’s heater going for me?”
His grin expanded, and while Freddie adjusted a bungee cord in his trunk, the Jeep purred to life. The radio clicked on; “Livin’ la Vida Loca” soon blasted out; and Kyle started dancing so wholeheartedly the entire SUV bounced with him.
Confident the jug was secure, Freddie shut the trunk and dusted off her hands. She was just stalking to the passenger door when a sound pealed out.
It cut through the hum of the engine and the muted crooning of Ricky Martin. Distant yet unmistakable: the tolling of a bell.
It was exactly like the bell she’d heard on Wednesday night.
Freddie’s skin crawled. A great rip of goose bumps that erupted across her neck and arms. Because that sound had not come from the direction of Fortin Prep with its mausoleum bell and presumably bells for class too.
Nor had it come from the direction of Berm’s downtown where there were two churches.
Instead, it had come from the west, from the forest of the county park, where the only bell even close to the trees was—as recently confirmed—a very, very not functional replica bell inside the schoolhouse.
Maybe the clanging is a trick of the wind, she thought as she leaped for the car. Maybe there’s someplace that the wind funnels through that… sounds… like… a bell.
Yeah, that logic wasn’t strong. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a rational explanation somewhere to be found. Freddie had heard what sounded like a bell on two different nights now, so all she had to do was pinpoint from where it was ringing.
And that, she decided, would be a good task for her Answer Finder self tomorrow.