Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3) by Gemma Halliday (books for students to read TXT) 📕

"You told the police that Connor had been killed while you were in the restroom," I said. Which is why our reconstruction hadn't worked. None of the suspects had killed Connor while Sophia had been in the ladies' room because he'd already been dead. We had been right—someone had lied about their timeline. We just hadn't figured it was the timeline of the dead guy.

"I did," Sophia said. "It was easy enough. I mean, who was going to argue it? I washed up, came back to the booth, walked in, and pretended to find him like that."

Which was, now that she was laying it out for me, very clever. Even if any evidence from the crime scene had been on her still, it would have easily been explained away by her finding Connor's body. Any hairs, fibers, any evidence that she'd been close to Connor was easy to explain away.

She grinned as she watched my face. "Clever, right?" she said, clearly reading my thoughts. "I'm not just a pretty face. I'm pretty smart too."

Smart was one word for it. Psychotic was another. But, I didn't think now was the time to argue.

Especially with that little gun still pointed so alarmingly steadily at me now.

"How did you know we'd be here at the booth?" I asked. "Did Phoebe tell you?"

She scoffed. "As if I'd talk to that geek. No, I followed you." Her grin widened. "I knew you were getting too close to the truth. So, when you all split up, it seemed like a good opportunity to take care of some loose ends."

Loose ends. That did not bode well for my future.

"So what are you going to do now?" I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Well, obviously you need to go."

The way she said it so easily sent a chill down my spine.

"You c-can't do that," I said, the shake back in my voice with a vengeance.

"No?" she asked, a taunting tone to her words as she looked down at the gun in her hand. "I think I can."

"Someone will find out. You won't get away with this."

"I'm already getting away with it. The cops are idiots."

"No, they're not!" I said, and I hated how the image of Raley flashed into my mind as I got all hot and defensive. "I have friends," I said, trying to find some smidgeon of bravery from deep down. Way deep down at this point. "They're right outside. They're going to come looking for me. They'll hear the gunshot."

But she shook her head. "I don't think so. You mean that adorable little Final Fantasy couple in the back?"

Sam and Kyle. My stomach dropped and I wanted to cry.

"What did you do to them?" I yelled.

"Relax," she said. "I told them you wanted to see them outside. That you had something important to show them."

"And they believed you." It was more of a statement than a question. Because, why would they have any reason to think she was lying?

She nodded. "Cute couple. Kinda gullible."

Which wasn't true, but again, not the time to argue with the homicidal maniac.

"But Chase is right outside too. He'll come looking for me!" I said.

The creepy smile snaked across her features again, marring any of the inherent beauty she possessed and transforming her face into something downright grotesque. She shook her head slowly. "No. He's not right outside."

My breath stopped for a full minute. Or at least it felt that way, every bodily function freezing as my mind shot to one thought. "What did you do to him?!"

She chuckled, though there was no humor in the situation. "Boys. They're so stupid. Show a little skin, and they lose all focus."

"What. Did. You. Do." My fear was slowly being replaced by another emotion. One that felt a lot like rage as I ground the words out at her.

She shrugged again. "Nothing I wouldn't do to my own boyfriend." Her eyes went to the storage room.

I sucked in a breath and felt the world spin. The male voice I'd heard in the booth. The thud. My eyes cut to the storage room, and I took a step toward it.

"Don't move!" Sophia screamed.

My feet stopped all on their own at the threat in her voice. Only they'd gotten me close enough to the room that I could see a pair of black combat boots just inside the door. Presumably attached to legs. That were not moving.

I felt hot tears behind my eyes, desperation bubbling up inside my chest.

"What did you do?" I asked for the third time, only this time it wasn't laced with fear or anger. Just sadness. And loss.

"Oh, come on. Like I could let you snoopy little high school reporters ruin my life?"

My eyes shot up to her at the emphasis on our age.

She laughed. "Uh, yeah, I figured out you weren't real press too. Duh. You're like, twelve."

I should have been insulted by that, but all I could be in that moment was sad. And regretful. I should have left this all to Raley. I should have refused to let Chase dangle himself as bait. I should have stayed home and done my homework like I'd told my mom I would.

Mom.

I felt tears slide down my cheeks. If Mom found out I died at the hands of the person who killed Simon after I promised I wouldn't be around any danger, she'd kill me. I closed my eyes, and I swear it took all I had in me not to whimper for my SMother.

"And now, I think we're done here," Sophia said, a chilling finality in her voice.

I opened my eyes, and through blurry tears I saw her aim the gun at my chest.

She took