Deadly First Day, page 5
part #1 of Embassy Academy Series
The girl’s bag brushes against my hand as she steps up beside me, staring in horror at the gruesome sight in the stall. Her eyes widen, her mouth drops open in shock, and she starts to retch. Throwing a hand over her mouth, she flees from the bathroom, leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind.
Outside, the girl gags, starting to cry, and then her footsteps thunder as she runs away.
My breaths are short, quick gasps.
I have to get out of here.
Come on, feet. One step. Just take one step.
With all my force of will, I concentrate. Slowly, my toes twitch. My foot lifts and I take a step toward the bathroom door, and freedom from culpability. I take another step, and another.
Forcing a deep breath, I look back. There are two sets of footprints leading from the stall to the door: the upchucking girl’s, and mine. I can’t do anything about that right now; surely the police will understand.
My fingers graze the handle before the door swings open, making me stumble backward to avoid being rammed by the solid wood.
Headmistress Morgan stands in the doorway, her visage creased with worry. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly as she spots me, but she quelches her surprise, instead swiveling to survey the bathroom. The moment she spots the blood, her mouth tightens. Stepping further inside, she looks into the stall where the body is, taking it in with a pained look. Her hands whiten, but it isn’t until she turns to me that she speaks. “Miss Lewis, are you all right? Take off your shoes and come with me.”
I nod, obeying her robotically, discarding my shoes in the bathroom and stepping out into the hall.
A man wearing blue coveralls, probably a custodian, is waiting.
Headmistress Morgan meets his eyes. “Do not let anyone in this room until the police arrive. If anyone asks you why the bathroom is off limits, tell them it’s out of order, and nothing more.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Miss Lewis.” She gestures for me to follow her, which I do, unable to force my tongue to cooperate. She says nothing as she leads me toward the administration office, the silence between us widening to a chasm.
My mind is unraveling like a dropped ball of yarn that’s rolling across the floor, leaving a tangled mess behind. I have to explain myself, but what can I say to convince her that I didn’t do anything? That it’s pure coincidence that I was found in the bathroom with a dead girl? I lick my lips. “Headmistress? I didn’t—”
“I advise you not to say anything until you’re in the presence of legal counsel.”
Legal counsel? I need legal counsel? Fear comes crashing in, striking me where I stand. I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking until Headmistress turns back to me, a firm look in her eyes. “Follow me, Miss Lewis. Quickly.”
I shake my head, unable to move.
“Class is almost over. It would be better for everyone if you were not seen out here. Once everyone hears what happened, and make no mistake, they will, the scrutiny you will be under…” She purses her lips. “Keep walking.”
I force my feet to move over the cold tile. She’s right. I do not want to be seen by everyone at the academy, standing in the hall looking guilty as sin.
But luck isn’t on my side today, obviously.
The bell rings, reverberating through my brain, making my teeth chatter.
Students stream out of their classrooms, bustling and talking and shoving their things into their backpacks. But then the ones nearest see me standing with Headmistress Morgan, not wearing any shoes. They stop, glancing at each other with derision on their lips. Their scorn is almost palpable as it spreads along the hallway.
“Oh my God,” someone screams. “There’s blood on the floor.”
The chattering grows louder, and my world tilts sideways. The glances start with the red footprints on the floor, move to the janitor blocking the women’s restroom, and land finally, abruptly, painfully, on me.
I cannot believe what is happening. I’m sitting in a rigid wooden chair in the headmistress’ office, clutching her rubbed bronze wastebasket in my lap, the stench of vomit stinging my nostrils.
Headmistress Morgan stands to one side, frowning with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down? I’ve notified the health center staff, and they’ve got a room ready for you.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to lie down. I don’t even want to move. All I want to do is sit here with my trash can and try to block out the bloody images in my head.
After a moment, she speaks again. “If you’re sure, I need to step out front to wait for the police. If you need anything, Heidi will help.” Waving toward her assistant, she waits for my nod, and then she hurries out of the office. It’s silent but for the ticking of a large wall clock, and Heidi’s intermittent typing. The seconds tick by loudly, pushing me closer and closer to panic.
There’s a commotion outside the office, as if everyone in the entire school has crowded around the door to get a peek at the girl who found the body, as if they’re already blaming me, clamoring for my removal from their school. I clearly do not belong, after all.
I try to shove my swirling thoughts away. I will myself not to panic.
The police will be able to tell that I didn’t kill Na, and I’ll be cleared of all suspicion. Right?
My mind flies back to our encounter this morning. The warm coffee spilling down her uniform. The vitriol in her voice as she yelled at me.
Oh gosh. They aren’t going to think I killed her for that, are they?
My stomach churns and I bury my face in the garbage can, begging the heaving to cease.
The door behind me swings open, and two police officers in crisp black and white uniforms come into the room, escorted by Headmistress Morgan. I straighten in my chair. These women are here to help; they’ll get to the bottom of Na’s death without making assumptions about me.
Headmistress moves around her desk and sits in her chair as if it’s a throne. She’s remarkably calm in all of this, which makes me wonder if she’s done this before—overseen a murder investigation within the purview of her school. Only the tense crease in her forehead hints at unease.
Both of the officers stand with their hands on their hips, near their weapons, I notice. “Officers, this is Adrienne Lewis. She found the body in the bathroom. I have advised her not to speak until she has legal counsel, and until her guardian arrives, I will exercise guardianship over her.”
The older, male officer gives her an appraising look before his gaze returns to me. He kneels so that we are at eye level. “Hi, Adrienne. I’m Officer Nolan, and this is my partner, Officer Bishop. I’m sure you understand how important it is for us to gather the facts of this case, as soon as possible. You don’t mind talking to us, with Headmistress Morgan present, do you?”
I glance at Headmistress, whose shrewd expression does nothing to bolster my spirits. Still, I have nothing to hide. I’ve done nothing wrong. “I don’t mind.”
“Good. Now, let’s start with an easy question. Why did you go to the bathroom?”
“I had to go… um… number one.”
Officer Nolan’s eyebrows rise at my shy manner, but he doesn’t comment. “And where were you before you went to the bathroom?”
“In pre-calculus. Ricardo LaGuerre can vouch for me.”
The officer narrows his eyes slightly. “Why would you need someone to vouch for you?”
I sense I’ve stepped in something I should have avoided. I scramble for a response. “I, I don’t need him to vouch for me. I just thought…” I fall silent, not sure how to free myself from the snare I’ve stumbled into.
Outside the door, the office assistant’s voice filters in. “Stop. You can’t go in there! Stop.”
The door flies open and smacks against the wall. Mikhail is standing there, body alert, arms ready for anything. His eyes soften when he spots me. “Are you all right, Miss Lewis?”
I sag into my chair, surprised at how relieved I am to see him. Here, I know, is someone who is in my corner, even if it’s because he’s paid to be. “Yes, thank you for coming.”
He steps forward and puts a hand on the back of my chair, his message clear. He’s here to protect me. The warmth emanating from his solid form is reassuring. “Officers, you will forgive me for interrupting. Senator Holt has asked me to remain with Miss Lewis until he arrives. Miss Lewis will not be answering any more questions until then.”
Officer Nolan sighs. “That’s fine. We’ll go back to the crime scene. Let us know when the senator and his lawyer arrive.”
I sag in my chair as they leave.
Headmistress Morgan’s cell phone rings. She looks down at it, and a hint of a grimace crosses her face. “It starts,” she whispers. Lifting her eyes to mine, she says, “If you’re sure you don’t want to see the doctor, you can wait in the empty classroom next door to the office. Mr. Sokolov will escort you.” Then she picks up her phone, steels herself, and answers.
I follow Mikhail through the administration office, and Headmistress’ voice filters after us. “Ambassador, how may I help you? … Yes, there has been an unfortunate incident… I assure you we have the situation well in hand. The police are on site…”
Mikhail swings the office door open, and I expect to see a mob of people staring at me, but there’s no one in the hallway, despite the fact that the bell rang only a couple of minutes ago. “Where is everyone?”
“Everyone has been evacuated to the dormitory until the body is removed.” Moving with brusque efficiency, he opens the adjacent door and flicks on the light. The empty classroom. The tables and chairs are stacked against the wall. Mikhail retrieves a chair and sets it on the floor for me.
Once I’m seated, he takes up a position against the wall, again clasping his hands in front in what is obviously a practiced stance.
It’s quiet in here, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
Mikhail says nothing, and the quiet unspools, lengthening and lengthening until I’m not sure I could speak if I wanted to. I open my mouth, but the clatter of high heels sprinting down the hallway catches my attention, pulling my eyes toward the closed door. Who’s out there?
Mikhail cracks the door open and looks out. He gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“Mikhail!” It’s Charlotte.
He opens the door wider so she can enter, then closes it again.
Charlotte looks formidably tall in her high heels, her uniform hugging her curves to perfection. Her focus tunnels in on me. “You will not believe what I heard. It’s all over school. Is it true that you found Li Na’s body in the bathroom? Was she shot? Was there a gun and everything?” Her body quavers at this, and Mikhail takes a step toward her, reaching with a large hand to steady her.
Before he can touch her, she gives herself a shake and marches over to me. “Are you okay? Tell me everything.” Her light hand on my arm is reassuring.
“There will be time for that.” Senator Holt is standing in the doorway with a tall woman at his back. They step into the room, taking command of the situation, and shut the door.
Abruptly, I stand up, then wonder why my body sent such an awkward impulse to my brain. I sit back down, slowly, hoping everyone didn’t notice, but who am I kidding? Charlotte, the senator, and his companion are all looking at me as if I’m some weird creature they’ve put under a microscope—both fascinating and gross. I squirm in my seat, tucking my hands under my legs to avoid fidgeting.
“Adrienne, are you all right?” the senator asks, moving closer.
“I think so?” I say, wishing I had brought that garbage can with me as my stomach surges. I clap my hand to my mouth, hard, willing my insides to stay put.
“This is not what I had in mind when I told you to act with grace and decorum.”
“Daddy!” Charlotte protests, taking the senator’s arm in both of her well-polished hands.
“Charlotte, I wish you had stayed in the dormitory like you were told. I’d rather both of you weren’t tied up in a murder investigation.”
Pink spots appear on her cheeks as she cuts a glance at me. There’s something in her look that I can’t name, that gives me pause.
“Mr. Sokolov will escort you back.”
Charlotte gives the senator her best puppy-dog-eyes look, but he Rook no argument. “Mikhail.”
The bodyguard steps forward and ever so lightly puts a hand on my stepsister’s shoulder. “Please come with me, Miss Cavendish-Holt.”
She must not see any wiggle room in the senator’s expression, because she nods and allows Mikhail to lead her away.
Once the door is closed, the senator comes to stand over me. “Adrienne, this is Ms. Cain, our family lawyer. She will be with you every second you’re with the police, and you are to say nothing without her consent. Do you understand?”
I nod, looking up at her. Her face is a practiced void. It’s unnerving.
“Before we proceed, are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“I’m glad. Can you tell us what happened before we speak to the police?” the senator asks, piercing me with his sea green eyes. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
My heart stammers in shock. Does he think I’m capable of killing someone? I shake my head vehemently, unable to make my tongue work. It feels overlarge in my mouth, thick and flabby and unwieldy. In the past, my reputation as a goody-two-shoes has rankled, but right now, I’m absurdly thankful for it.
“Good. Please go through it slowly, so Ms. Cain and I can get a grasp of the situation.”
Swallowing, I manage to make my mouth cooperate. I tell them everything. The senator watches me closely as I talk, and Ms. Cain nods, taking notes on her tablet.
“Good job,” Ms. Cain says once I’m finished. “In a minute, we’ll go to the police station, where their detectives will question you. Keep your answers short and factual. Don’t tell them anything unless they ask you specifically, and give yourself time to think before answering.”
“Can’t we do it here?”
Ms. Cain shakes her head. “The police have requested we move to the station to avoid scrutiny from everyone here at the academy. Detectives Cahill and Gupta will meet us there.”
I’m almost relieved. That actually doesn’t sound so bad.
The senator puts a hand on my shoulder, bidding me to focus on him. “Once they’ve questioned you, don’t try to involve yourself in the investigation further. Don’t ask questions or talk about it with anyone else. Do you understand? We don’t want your name tied to this incident. The press would have a field day. And the convention is next week. We want this wrapped up as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.” I can do that. I’m better when I have time to compose responses anyway. Snappy and sarcastic, I am not.
“Then let’s go get this over with.”
The senator and Ms. Cain lead me out, the only sounds in the building the murmurs of police and the squawks of their radios.
I trail behind, trying to figure out what it was about the senator’s words that has me so disconcerted. On the surface, they were not supportive, exactly, but not accusatory either. So why am I starting to panic, as if I’m being thrown to the mercy of wolves?
8
My interview with the police is mercifully brief. The detectives were gentle as they questioned me about what they’re now calling the crime scene, fingerprinted me, and then told me I was free to go.
The argument was worse. My parents barely made it outside the police station before they started picking at each other. My mom wanted to pull me out of the academy and take me home, forgoing her research trip, but my father insisted I’d be safe at school.
I completely agreed with my mom, but I couldn’t let her throw away a research trip she’s worked so hard for.
So, after grilling Mikhail about his capabilities as a bodyguard, she agreed to let me stay. Side note: Mikhail’s dad is a Russian general. Scary.
But as Mikhail drives up to the school, I start to think I should have let my mom cancel her trip. The looks I got in the hallway this morning were nothing compared to the blatant stares I’m getting now.
It starts in the parking lot. The security guard at the booth eyes me as Mikhail pulls through the iron gates.
There are sentries at the front door who weren’t there this morning, and several more are stationed at various points inside the dormitory, their expressions on full alert.
Yesterday, the looks I got from other students were full of mild curiosity, or blank and apathetic. But as I climb the stairs to the third floor, everyone I pass stops to stare at me. A boy and a girl, who moments before were whispering conspiratorially as they jogged down, halt in their tracks to goggle at me.
“Is that her?” the boy whispers to the girl, who nods. “I heard her hands were covered in blood.”
I open my mouth to disagree, but Mikhail shakes his head.
My stomach churns. I’m no longer just the new girl. Now I’m the girl who got yelled at by Na.
The girl who found the body of Na.
The girl who murdered Na?
Several more girls come down after them, and they too keep their eyes on me until they’re well past. I see it in their faces: the questions. They don’t know me, after all. I’m simply the new girl, and it’s much easier to suspect that I had something to do with Na’s death than it is to believe that someone familiar, someone in their ranks, was responsible.
The weight of their questions presses down on me as I continue to climb, hoping to find relief in Charlotte’s room.
But as I approach her door, my instincts flare. That is not going to happen.
Sure enough, there is a group of girls inside, clustered around a couple bags of potato chips on the floor, gossiping about the day’s events. Prim uniforms have been exchanged for more casual clothing, and shiny shoes have given way to bare feet. A hush descends over them when I come in, and six pairs of eyes swivel to look up at me. Dali is among them, and she looks at me with a tight smile before her eyes skitter away. Even she is afraid of me now.
