Deadly First Day, page 20
part #1 of Embassy Academy Series
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m taller than you, and I could grab those easily. Besides, I would never put hard drugs in this body. They’re just ADD medication, so I can focus better.”
“Do you have ADD?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t need these.” I open the bag and start to dump them in the trash, but stop. She could dig them out if she wanted to. My eyes dart toward her closed door.
“Don’t you dare.”
But before she can slide off her bed, I fling open the door and pound down the hall toward the bathroom. Her sprained knee gives me a huge advantage. Dumping the pills into the toilet, I flush and watch as they’re sucked down through the pipes to oblivion.
Charlotte is seething, arms jammed over her chest when I walk back into her room. “You had no right to do that. Those were mine. I needed them.”
I shake my head as I cross to stand face to face with her. This girl who is a powerful force in everything she does. “You are Charlotte Antoinette Cavendish-Holt, and you do not need those pills to be as freaking amazing as you are. You’re smart and gorgeous and driven, and anyone who can’t see that is a complete and total idiot.”
Charlotte’s neck flushes as she glares at me, her chest heaving.
I fight the urge to back away, knowing that I’m right. My feet oblige, remaining rooted to the spot.
Finally, Charlotte’s chin ducks. “My knee is killing me. I’m sitting down now.”
A chuckle of relief escapes me as I pull her desk chair over so she can collapse into it. “Thanks,” she says, “for saying all that. It’s nice to hear, sometimes. Daddy doesn’t give compliments often.”
“And I’m guessing your mom doesn’t either.”
A slight jerk of her head is the only indication she’s heard me.
Kneeling down, I look up at her. “You have to stop taking these things. You are enough without them.”
A bigger nod.
“And you have to turn in Professor Rook.”
Her eyes snap wide. “How did you know I got them from him?”
“I saw you go in there, remember? And I may have snuck down to his classroom the other night and poked around. I found a loose pill in his desk drawer.”
“But he keeps that drawer locked. How did you…? Can you pick locks?”
I laugh outright this time. “No. I took Mikhail with me.”
Charlotte tilts her head to the side. “You like him, don’t you?”
My cheeks blush red, betraying me.
“I knew it!” She grins. “You’re so obvious, giving him those mooncalf eyes whenever he’s around. It’s sweet. Maybe he likes you too! Wouldn’t that be great? He could be your bodyguard and your boyfriend. Just like I predicted.”
My mind goes back to our first night at the swing dancing club, when she introduced Mikhail as my boyfriend. If only it could be true.
“You didn’t predict anything! Besides, he doesn’t like me. He likes…” I trail off, gesturing in her general direction.
Charlotte scoffs. “You’re joking. Mikhail does not have feelings for me. I’m a thorn in his side. Wait and see.”
I don’t have the heart to argue with her, even though I know I’m right. Heck, that’s probably what he was about to tell me tonight when we were dancing. That he’s in love with my stepsister.
“Well, at least you’re not into Ricardo.”
My body is heavy with exhaustion, both physical and emotional. Tonight has taken its toll on me. “There’s nothing going on with Ricardo and me. We’re just friends.”
My stepsister purses her lips. “I know you say you don’t like him, but just in case.” Spinning around in her chair, Charlotte opens her laptop and navigates to her social media page. She scrolls down slowly. Finally, she stops on an image of Genevieve and Ricardo. In it, she’s looking up at him with a smile, but he’s winking at the camera.
The sight of the two of them standing so close together makes my stomach clench.
Charlotte looks up at me, her expression a warning. “She liked him a lot, and he broke her heart.”
“Charlotte—”
She puts a finger to my mouth, stopping me.
“I won’t bug you about him anymore, but be careful.”
My lips purse. “Agreed.”
Giving a firm nod, she starts scrolling back up through her photos, lazily, stopping here and there to look at them. There are vacation photos. Photos of Charlotte in a suit, rocking it at a Mock UN meet. Charlotte and her friends at the mall, hiking, dancing.
“Stop. Go back.” One photo grabs my attention, and I have to see it again.
“Okay, here.” She scrolls back down, pausing at each photo.
“There.” I stare at it, not sure what I’m seeing. It’s a photo of Na and Charlotte, both wearing fierce makeup and knockout summer dresses. It’s the dresses that caught my eye. Na is wearing a purple ruched frock that pings in my memory. It’s the same one she was wearing in the image burned into my brain. The photo of her and I at the party out in Wood View. Disbelief floods me, making my limbs go wobbly. My eyes drop to the date displayed below the photo, and my jaw drops open.
This photo is from the same day as the party.
It can’t be. Unless…
My hackles are raised when I whirl on Charlotte. “You know why the police pulled me out of the senator’s campaign dinner two weeks ago? They had a photo of me and Na together at a party, even though I’d told them I’d never met her before. She was wearing that dress. And the date on this says it was taken the same day. What the heck, Charlotte?”
Charlotte takes a slow, purposeful breath, and looks from the photo to me. Leveling her chin, she says, “I was there, too. At the party. Daddy had just come home saying he wanted us to all go out to someplace called Wood View to meet his other daughter. I wanted to know who you were. I had your name, so I looked you up on social media. One of your friends had posted on your wall saying something about a party, so I asked Na to find it. She was crazy good at stuff like that. So we went out there. I just wanted to get a look at you, but Na, she said I should talk to you. I refused, so she—”
“She did it. She asked me for the time, and then she asked me some random questions about my family. I didn’t even remember it after.” My mind goes back to the day I arrived at the academy.
Keep your stepsister on a tighter leash, will you?
Na had already known who I was, because she’d already met me. She’d already sized me up and found me wanting. A dull ache settles in my chest. Even from the grave Na is making me feel inadequate.
Charlotte lets out a rough laugh. “That sounds like her. She was… brave. And sneaky. And kind of mean sometimes.” She shrugs.
“Yeah, I’ve heard something about that.” My eyes find hers. “You have to tell the police why the two of you were out there that night. They think I had something to do with her death, you know, since I lied to them.”
It’s Charlotte’s turn to go wide-eyed. “I’ll tell them. I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”
Lightning strikes my brain. “Na, she was buying pills from Professor Rook too, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah. Why?”
My mind is working quickly, making connections that weren’t there before. Coming to conclusions that make me stagger back against my stepsister’s bed, the cool of the down quilt soft against my pulsing skin. “What if they were having an affair—stay with me. What if they were, and they had a fight, and she threatened to expose his dealing? What if he killed her for it?”
Charlotte starts to shake her head, but stops. “I want to say she wouldn’t do that, but… I don’t know. She had a mean streak, and if she wanted to hurt him, that would have been the way to do it.”
“You have to report this to the police.”
“We can’t. We don’t have anything to go on but speculation. There’s no proof.”
“We can tell them about the pills. That will make them look at him more closely. Then they’ll find something. They have to.”
Charlotte is shaking her head vehemently now, face pale. “We can’t tell them about the pills. If we do, they’ll ask how we know. They’ll find out I’ve been taking them sometimes to help focus. It will ruin me, my grades, everything. And worse, someone will leak it. It’ll get out. I know it. When that happens, Daddy’s career will take a huge hit. It’s the worst possible time for something like this. We can’t tell anyone.” Her gaze hones in on mine. “Swear you won’t tell, Adrienne.”
A muscle ticks in my jaw. Everything in me is screaming to refuse. To deny her this request. Images of my father with disappointment in his eyes as he looks at me settle in my gut, weighing me down. Making me feel small. If we tell, if we play a part in dealing a blow to his political career, he’ll never look at me any other way. My fingers reach up and touch my grandmother’s brooch for reassurance. “Okay, we won’t tell anyone.”
“Shake on it.”
Charlotte grips my hand and gives it two strong pumps.
“But you have to stop taking the pills, Charlotte. Swear it.” I use her own words against her.
“Deal.”
“And you’ll call the police in the morning and tell them about Na and the party?”
“Right after I call our lawyer, yes.”
I only hope it’s enough to get the police off my tail and onto another path. One that leads straight to drug-peddling Professor Rook.
26
Professor Rook has been lecturing us about the practical applications of calculus for the past ten minutes, and I might agree with him if I wasn’t so freaked out about talking to him after class. I can’t stop fidgeting, and for once I’m thankful for the wool uniform jacket I’m wearing, because otherwise I’m pretty sure my armpit sweat would be visible through my white blouse.
Charlotte may not want to go to the police about Professor Rook and risk being exposed herself, but I can’t just sweep it under the rug. She’s my stepsister, and I have to protect her in whatever way I can. And that means making sure Professor Rook doesn’t sell her, or anyone else, any more pills.
My knees jiggle under the desk as I tap my feet on the wooden floor, trying to expel my nerves.
The girl sitting across the aisle from me glares at my feet, and I stop bouncing.
This class is taking forever. I need it to end, so I can talk to the professor. And hopefully the police will get off my back now that Charlotte has explained to them, and I can go back to being a normal high school junior instead of a pariah and person of interest in a murder investigation.
No seventeen-year-old should have to deal with all of this.
After a few minutes, I give up on trying to focus and scroll through social media on my laptop. The people behind me can probably see what I’m doing, but who cares.
The bell rings, sending my classmates fleeing from the room, stuffing their laptops and tablets into their bags as they go. Ricardo sees me still in my seat, and stops in the doorway.
I gesture for him to stay. The evil professor can’t kill me with a witness in the room.
Ricardo takes a few steps closer, waiting.
Professor Rook sits down at his desk and gets out his phone, heedless of me sitting here.
I slide my laptop into my bag and hoist it onto my shoulder as I stand up. “Professor Rook? Can I talk to you about something?”
He looks up at me, an unreadable expression behind his eyes. Setting his phone down, he sits forward and folds his arms. “What can I help you with?”
Steeling myself, I force the words out. “I was hoping that you could, well… I know Charlotte got them from you, and I… I need you to stop selling pills to students here at the academy. Especially Charlotte.”
Professor Rook looks incredulous. “I don’t know where you heard such a vicious rumor, but I would never sell medication to anyone at this school.”
Undeterred by his cavalier manner, I press. “I saw the pills in Charlotte’s purse. She admitted they weren’t prescription, and she got them from you.”
Ricardo’s mouth drops open.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” the professor says. “She was lying.”
I sigh, starting to get exasperated. “I know it was you. I, I saw the bag of pills in your desk drawer.”
“My locked desk drawer? I was wondering who broke into my desk and planted that bag of pills. Thank you for coming forward. I commend your honesty. Of course, Headmistress Morgan probably won’t be so understanding. She has a rather harsh stance on controlled substances on campus. It was nice knowing you, Adrienne. Good luck at your next school.” He stands and heads toward the door.
Ricardo stands elbow to elbow with me, and I take courage from him.
“Wait! I know it was you. Your fingerprints will be all over that bag. The police will be able to tell.”
The professor spins around, his eyes narrowed. He stalks closer, making me shrink back. “And your fingerprints won’t be on it?”
The words make my hands flash cold. He’s right; my fingerprints will be on the bag too.
“It’ll be a case of he said/she said,” he continues, “and who do you think the police will believe, a teacher with a clean record and a history of success at the academy, or a spoiled rich girl who is already a person of interest in a murder investigation?”
I recall Detective Cahill’s cold gaze as she questioned me. That knowing gleam in her eye. She thought I was lying. If I tell the police about Professor Rook’s bag of pills now, they’ll probably assume I’m trying to throw their suspicion off me.
They’d be right.
Professor Rook leans over me, looking much like a bird of prey with his rounded shoulders and sharp nose. Reaching into his desk, he pulls out a single vintage clip-on earring and holds it out to me. “This is yours, isn’t it?”
My heart drops as I stare at the earring. My fingers rise unbidden to my ears, which are devoid of piercings. Clip-ons are all I wear, since I’m afraid of needles and couldn’t bring myself to actually get my ears pierced. The gold-plated teardrop is mine. I’ve been missing it for a while, but didn’t know where I’d lost it. It must have fallen off when I was hiding in Professor Rook’s cabinet that night.
“If anyone hears even a hint that I’ve been selling to students, I’ll ruin you. Do you understand?”
Professor Rook’s face is twisted in a malicious expression as he looks at me.
I recoil in fear, because at this moment I can see the evil underneath the carefree mask he wears in class every day. This man is capable of more than selling drugs to his students. He’s capable of murder.
Once we’re down the hallway, Ricardo stops me. “What’s the plan? How are we going to nail Rook?”
I merely shake my head. The evil professor’s got my hands pinned behind my back. I can’t do anything to him, or he’ll finish me off. Maybe literally.
It’s been two days since Charlotte injured her knee, and it’s not improving. Five minutes after the lunch bell rings, she’s nowhere in the eatery. It’s weird, because usually she’s one of the first people to our table. She walks so fast normally that it’s hard for me to keep up with her, even though she’s wearing heels to my flat slip-ons. But with a sore knee...
I lean toward Genevieve. “Have you seen Charlotte? She was in class with you, right?”
The girl nods. “She told me to go ahead. She didn’t want help.”
Callahan rolls his eyes. “I told her this morning that she should have gone to the health center for crutches.”
“She should have,” Dali puts in. “I saw her limping down the hall between classes.” She whistles low.
As if I’ve spun around in front of the mirror chanting her name, Charlotte limps into the eatery. She pauses in the doorway, her hand braced on the wooden doorframe. It’s hard to tell from here, but I’m pretty sure her teeth are gritted, and her skin is flushed from exertion, or pain, more like.
I’m out of my seat and jogging toward her before I know what I’m doing, but Mikhail beats me there.
Up close, Charlotte looks rough. There are wisps of hair sticking to her neck, and her entire body is trembling. She looks like a wounded animal who’s been cornered and might lash out at any time. I take a step back, not wanting to be within reach if she decides to take it out on someone. Better Mikhail’s cut form than my squishier one.
“You should have told me you needed help,” Mikhail says, concern in his voice.
“I don’t need help,” Charlotte says. “Just give me a second.” With a deep breath, she pushes off the wall and thumps toward our table. Each time she puts weight on her hurt knee, she jerks her foot off the ground, making her gait unstable and uneven.
Mikhail and I watch after her.
I wince, wishing she’d let us help. But Charlotte is stubborn. I get the feeling that asking for help would be like admitting defeat, and she won’t have that if it’s at all avoidable.
But she surprises me. Halfway to the table she stops and turns, her eyes cutting into me. “Adrienne. I need you to take me to the health center.” Even in pain, this is the Charlotte I’ve gotten to know. A girl who is blunt and to the point, who sometimes forgets the niceties of etiquette.
“Sure thing.” I wrap my arm around her waist and steer her back toward the hallway.
Mikhail blocks our path, his eyes trained on us. “I wish to be of assistance.”
“No thanks. Adrienne can handle it from here.”
Despite the brush off, Mikhail follows us all the way to the health center, taking up position outside the door when we step inside.
Charlotte huffs as she sinks into a chair in the waiting area across from the empty desk. Nurse Karen must be in the back.
“I know he means well,” Charlotte says, “but I do not need Mikhail’s help. I can do this on my own. If word gets back to Daddy…”
My brows push together. I don’t know why Charlotte wouldn’t want the senator to know she’s physically hurt, unless maybe she doesn’t want him fawning over her. But honestly, that doesn’t sound like the senator at all. He never fawns. A pin of jealousy pricks, but I ignore it. “Let me get someone.”
