Authors: Tami Dane

Blood of Dawn (16 page)

BOOK: Blood of Dawn

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“Exactly.”

We sat in silence for a while, watching packs of teens wander into the room, shuffle up to the casket. Girls cried. Boys stared, their expressions unreadable for the most part. Nobody stood out. Not one teen looked any more or less grief-stricken. I recognized a few faces from summer school. Nobody approached me, though I saw a few curious glances.

“Are we wasting our time here?” I whispered an hour later. We hadn’t moved from our seats. My butt was aching a little. My back was sore. I needed to get up and walk around. More than that, I needed to do something besides sit and wait. I could be doing more research. Interviewing someone.
Something.

“If we weren’t here, where would we be? At home, Googling more?”

“Yeah. I get your point. At least we’re doing something different. As Albert Einstein said, ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. ’” I stretched. “I think I’m going to head downstairs and see if I can find some water.”

“Okay, I’ll stay here.”

I headed out of the room, sidestepped my way among mobs of teens, until I found the stairs. I headed down to the open space below, where the snacks and drinks were kept. Down I went, finding that area less crowded. Along one wall ran a counter, stacked with trays of cookies, fruit, crackers, probably brought by friends and family of the deceased. And sitting off to one side was an open cooler with bottles of water. I helped myself to a cookie and a bottle of water, then stepped into a corner to watch and listen.

I finally saw Hailey’s father, sitting in a chair not far away, talking to a group of adults who were roughly his age. One of them asked if he’d heard anything from the police, and he shook his head.

“They supposedly have the FBI working on the case, but they don’t seem to be doing a damn thing to find the bastard who did this.”

We are trying. We really are.

The guy to his left shook his head. “You’d think they’d be all over a case like this. Three dead teen girls.”

We are all over this case. I’m practically living and breathing this case. What more do they expect?

“I told Forrester, the detective on the case, that I think it’s Hollerbach. There’s something not right about that bastard. I can tell. But did he do anything with that? No. The asshole’s still teaching.”

Hollerbach?
That name hadn’t come up before tonight, not in connection with this case. I already knew he was inappropriately involved with one student. That meant he was capable of making poor decisions. But did that mean he was a killer?

A young man approached the group and offered a hand. I recognized him right away. “Sir, I’m sorry for your loss.” They shook hands.

Mr. Roberts nodded. “Thank you. You were a friend? I don’t believe I’ve met you before.”

“Yeah, I’m Ben. I knew Hailey from school.”

Her father’s eyes reddened. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t know her very well, but she seemed to be a nice girl.”

Mr. Roberts nodded.

Ben stepped back. “Again, I’m sorry. I was shocked when I heard what happened.”

“Weren’t we all?”

I headed back upstairs and sat next to JT. I whispered, “There’s a teacher we need to check out. His name’s Hollerbach.”

“A teacher. That makes sense. Older. Confident. It would be easy to gain the girls’ trust. What’s the connection?”

“At this point, I don’t have a solid one,” I said to JT’s profile. “He was mentioned by Roberts’s father, just now.”

“Okay.” JT nodded, and his gaze still moved around the room without coming to me.

“Here’s the thing. You remember the alibi I mentioned for Derik Sutton? The other witness who can vouch for him is none other than Carl Hollerbach. Hollerbach’s having an affair with Sutton’s stepsister.”

JT’s gaze jerked to me. “Hmm. Interesting. If that’s the case, then he couldn’t be the killer. He has an alibi. Jia.”

“True, but I think we should still take a look at him,” I continued, making sure to keep my voice very low so nobody could eavesdrop. “He’d fit the lust-motivated serial-killer profile. Between twenty-five and thirty-five years old, above-average to average intellect, married guy next door.”

“The crimes don’t look like your typical lust-motivated crimes. There’s no sexual torture, no mutilation, no flagellation, no necrophilia.”

“But there is the electrocution. That could be a form of torture. And what about the vampirism? We could be dealing with your run-of-the-mill, lust-motivated killer—of the Homo sapiens variety, not Mythic.”

“Interesting theory.” Looking thoughtful, he nodded; then he went back to scanning the room. “We’ll see what we can dig up on the teacher. We’ve already found one skeleton in his closet. Let’s see if we can find some more.”

I waited a beat to add, “And, JT, I’ve decided I’m not dropping out of summer school. Not yet.”

JT’s jaw clenched. “Sloan—”

“I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

“That’s exactly what Wayne Roth said before he died.”

“Who’s Wayne Roth?” I asked.

“Some moron who was bit by a cobra and refused to go to the hospital. He was a Darwin Award nominee.”

“Ah, it’s wonderful being compared to someone who improved humanity’s gene pool by removing himself from it.”

“No offense, of course.” JT’s lips curved up in a ghost of a smile.

“None taken.”

There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.

—Buddha

The next morning, during the drive to school, I repeated my mantra, “I will make a friend. I will make a friend. I will make a friend.” And I didn’t stop until the very last bell had rung, and I was heading out to the parking lot, having yet again failed at making a connection with one single student.

It was no use. These kids weren’t going to accept me.

I was strolling along the far end of the building, chastising myself, when Derik Sutton, my best buddy, came around the corner from the opposite direction.

Once again, there we were: he was glaring at me, and I was trying to pretend not to notice.

Damn it. If I’d been more aware of what I was doing, I wouldn’t have come this way.

Since pretending he wasn’t there hadn’t worked last time, I went for a different approach. I warned him, “Touch me, and I swear you’ll be sorry.”

He laughed. He laughed hard. And then he sauntered over and clamped his hands around my wrists. “Oh, yeah? What are you going to—”

My knee went up. It made contact.

He fell to the ground, curled in a fetal position.

“Really? Were you so sure I wouldn’t do anything that you’d leave yourself hanging out like that?” I said over his whimpering form.

Behind me, I heard a gasp. I turned, finding two students standing about ten feet away: the female, a short brunette, skittered away without looking at me; the male, a tall, lanky boy, who had braces, didn’t.

“Braces Boy” and I exchanged looks; then I jerked up my chin, squared my shoulders, and headed for the parking lot. I made it as far as the second row before hearing a distant shout of “Wait!”

I paused, unsure whether the yeller was speaking to me or someone else.

It was Braces Boy. And he was looking right at me. So I waited.

“That was awesome.” He jerked his head toward the building. “Sutton’s an asshole, but all the girls are afraid of him. You’re the first girl who actually put him in his place.”

“Why are they all afraid of him? I mean, he is sort of creepy. But it wasn’t that hard to stop him.”

“Didn’t you know?” Braces Boy adjusted his backpack.

“Know what?”

“There’s a rumor that he killed a girl. At his old school.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Immediately, I wondered why Jia hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe she knew it wasn’t true, so she didn’t bother mentioning it? Or maybe she was afraid to tell me?

“I hope, for your sake, it’s just a rumor.”

“Me too.”

“Name’s Nate.”

“I’m Sloan.” We exchanged head nods. “Are there any other rumors I should be aware of?”

Nate’s lips curled. “How much time do you have?”

“How much time do
you
have?”

He started toward the sidewalk, motioning for me to follow. “Come with me. I live down the road. We can walk. I’ll fill you in.”

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in Nate’s kitchen, watching him make tuna salad sandwiches on wheat. His sister, as it turned out, was the short brunette who’d been standing next to him. She’d disappeared the instant I stepped into the house, whispering something to herself as she clomped up the stairs to the second floor.

“Your sister doesn’t like me,” I said, watching her hasty retreat.

“She likes you. She’s just afraid to be associated with you. In case, Sutton . . . you know.”

“Speaking of that, what exactly did Sutton do? Has anyone ever said?”

“I believe he strangled his ex-girlfriend.”

That wasn’t our killer’s MO. But this conversation was still very interesting.

“Strangled?”
My mind flashed back to that moment when he’d had me pinned against the wall. Had his gaze flicked to my neck? Now that I thought about it, it had. “I knew he was creepy, but I wouldn’t have guessed he might be a murderer. You said there are other rumors. About him or someone else?”

“Lots of rumors, but no more about him. Supposedly, Hailey Roberts was pregnant over Christmas break and had an abortion. The father was Mr. Hollerbach.”

“The teacher!”

“Yep.”

“If that’s the case, why’s he still teaching?”

“The school did an investigation, but Hailey’s parents didn’t report it until after the fact. No DNA meant the police couldn’t find enough evidence to indict him.”

“Wow.” I needed to have a chat with Jia. If she didn’t know about the other girl, she needed to be told.

“And then there’s the rumor about Zoey Urish. I heard she’s addicted to ‘bath salts’ and was thrown into the hospital a couple of nights ago, after having hallucinations about some undead spirit monster trying to kidnap her.”

That hallucination, ironically, sounded mighty familiar. Speaking of which, I hadn’t heard from Elmer in a couple of nights, since I’d left that threatening message, demanding the return of my memory. I made a mental note to call him again. Of course, we’d already crossed Urish off the list. JT hadn’t told me details, but now I knew why she couldn’t be our killer.

“Bath salts?”
I questioned, not sure what that addiction could be.

“They’re not the smelly kind you dump in a bathtub. It’s a synthetic drug marketed as Up Energizing Aromatherapy Powder.” He made quotation marks in the air. “I guess it’s real popular in the West.”

That was a sad story. Addiction destroyed lives, but it didn’t pertain to our investigation. “Anyone else I should avoid?”

Nate set a plate on the counter in front of me; then he sat on the stool at my right, his plate in front of him. “Um . . . you should probably steer clear from most of the football players. But that’s not because they’ve killed anyone.” He took a bite of his sandwich. Chewed.

“What about the girls who’ve died? Any rumors about what happened to them?”

He swallowed before answering. “Lots of rumors, but none that make any sense. I heard Stephanie Barnett had been in a fight with Hailey Roberts the week before she died. But I know for a fact that wasn’t true. I also heard Emma Walker said Stephanie stole her iPod.”

“Both those rumors are false?”

“Yes, I think so. I was . . . kind of seeing Megan, Stephanie’s best friend. She told me about it.”

Megan, the girl who’d killed herself.

Interesting.

He didn’t seem very upset about Megan’s death. I decided not to tell him about the conversation in the girls’ room. “What do you think happened to Stephanie, Emma, and Hailey?”

“I have no idea. But what I can say is that the three girls were all seen with a guy—not the same one—within hours of their deaths. I’m wondering if there isn’t one killer, but maybe two or more of them.”

I hadn’t thought of that possibility. “Do you think it’s a gang? Maybe hazing of some kind?”

“Maybe.”

“Great. I guess I’ll just avoid being with any guy until the police sort out what’s happening.” I gave him a sheepish look. “Oh, no!”

“What?”

“I left school with you. We were alone. We
are
alone. . . .”

He shook his head hard. “I promise, I haven’t killed anyone. I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I’m not a part of the crowd those guys hang with. You’re safe. I promise.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“On the other hand, you did knee Sutton in the balls. I wouldn’t walk that way tomorrow. He’s not going to be so friendly the next time you run into him.”

“You have my word on that.” My backpack started playing JT’s ringtone. “That’s my mom. She’s probably wondering where I am.” I lifted one index finger while I rooted around in the bottom of my backpack with the other hand, searching for my phone. By the time I found it, it had stopped ringing. I hit the green button, returning the call.

“Hey,” I said when JT answered.

“Where are you? You promised you’d be here by three-thirty.”

“Oh.” I checked the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. “Um, I’m having some lunch with a friend.”

“Do you know how freaked out I was? What friend? Where are you?”

“I’m at Nate’s house.”

“Who’s Nate?”

“A friend.” I didn’t like how this conversation was going. Ironic, that I’d told Nate my mother had called, and JT was sounding a lot like an over-protective mother. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yes, there is. . . .”

As JT lectured me, I started feeling guiltier and guiltier. I could understand why JT was stressing out. I’d basically told him yesterday that I was too scared to go back to school; then I changed my mind and told him I was going back, anyway, even though the chief had told him I was done. And I had disappeared. JT continued ranting and I couldn’t get a word in, so I sat and waited for him to stop to inhale.

“Sloan, you’re part of a team. A team. We work together. Where are you? What’s the address?”

“I don’t know the exact address. I’m less than a half of a block from the school.”

“Which way?”

“‘Which way,’” I echoed, leaning in my seat to look out the living-room window in front of me, which faced the street. “Where are you?”

“In the school parking lot . . . staring at what remains of your car.”

“What do you mean ‘what remains’?” A cold shiver buzzed up my spine. I glanced at Nate. He was listening to my end of the conversation. “The house is north of the school, on the right. I’ll come outside.” I clicked off, shoved my phone in my backpack, and stood. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I guess not. That was a friend . . . of my mother’s. Something happened to my car.”

“No way. I bet it was Sutton. It has to be.” He was on his feet too, his footsteps pounding after me as I sprinted for the front door. Before I left, I cautioned, “Maybe you shouldn’t come with me. Maybe your sister was onto something by avoiding me?”

“To hell with that. I’m going.”

He was over six feet tall and determined. There was no stopping him.

Out we went. JT’s car came roaring up, skidding to a stop in front of the house.

JT powered down the window. “Get in. The fire department’s just about got the fire out.”

“Fire?” I glanced over my shoulder at Nate.

His eyes got a little buggy. “On second thought, I’d better stay here.” He looked left, then right, and raced back into his house, like a roach caught in the middle of the kitchen floor.

I flung my bag onto JT’s backseat; then I flopped into the passenger seat.

JT jerked his head toward Nate’s house. “Looks like your new friend doesn’t want to be friends anymore. Is it maybe because you’ve made yourself a new enemy?”

“What makes you think that?” I smirked.

JT actually laughed.

We drove back down the street, parked as close as we could to the lot where my car had been parked, and walked the rest of the way. The first thing I noticed was the blackened skeleton of my car and the stench of toxic fumes. The fire had been extinguished, but I could still hear the faint hiss of water evaporating off the hot metal.

“It was only a knee in the crotch,” I grumbled, staring at my crispy car.

“Hmm. I guess you kneed the wrong guy’s nuts.”

“It sure looks that way. Can we prove it was him?”

“I don’t know.” JT glanced around at the firemen, who were packing up their equipment. “Let’s see if they’ve found the cause of the fire.” He turned a full three-sixty before finally saying, “There’s the chief.” With purpose-filled strides, he cut across the lot. I trailed behind him, unable to keep up. When I reached them, they were already discussing the suspected cause of the fire.

JT turned to me. “The fire started in the front passenger seat.”

That was where my laptop bag had been sitting. Inside my laptop bag had been my flashy new computer. Had the battery been the culprit, or did Derik Sutton decide I needed to pay for what I’d done?

“Is there any way to tell exactly what caused the fire?” I asked.

The fireman answered, “We have several witnesses who state they saw nobody tampering with the vehicle before the fire. We also have the investigators reviewing the school’s security tape. That should give us the information we need. But at this point, we’re thinking something in your car’s front seat may have been the culprit.”

Wasn’t that just great? I hadn’t even had the computer for a week, and already it had been converted into landfill fodder.

“What rotten luck,” I grumbled.

“Sorry, Sloan.” JT patted my back. “I guess I jumped to conclusions.”

BOOK: Blood of Dawn

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