Killer's Kiss (13 page)

“V
incent Milano had a purple lip print on his cheek when we examined his body,” Detective Jamison explained to Karina and her mother. “A lip print this color, this shape.”

“But—but—” Karina sputtered.

“We believe that Vincent's murderer placed the lip print there by pressing a sheet of paper—like one of these—against his face.”

Mrs. Frye stumbled over to Karina's bed. Her entire body shook.

Karina uttered a sob. “I did not kill Vincent. I cared about Vincent—more than anyone in the world. And he cared about me.”

Delia couldn't hold herself back any longer.

“No!” she shrieked. “He didn't care about you!
He
didn't!
And so you killed him! You killed him! The only boy I ever loved!”

Karina gasped and spun around to face her.

“Delia? What are
you
doing in here?” she demanded.

“We told you to wait—” Bender said angrily.

The detectives started toward Delia.

But before they could reach her, Karina charged across the room. She grabbed Delia around the waist—and heaved her to the floor.

Delia's breath rushed out in a
whoosh
. White specks flew in front of her eyes.

“Karina—stop!” she could hear Mrs. Frye pleading. “Stop!”

Karina let out an animal cry of fury.

Delia struggled to push Karina away.

The detectives grabbed Karina by the shoulders—and wrestled her off Delia.

With another angry shriek, Karina broke one hand free and ripped her nails across Delia's cheek.

Then she spun into her mother's arms.

“Aaaaaiiii!” Delia screamed in pain.

Her hands shot up to protect her face.

She felt the hot blood flowing down her cheek. Felt the sharp tingle of pain sweep down her body.

“I didn't kill him! I didn't!” Karina screeched, her eyes wild, her entire body trembling, out of control. “I didn't! I didn't!”

Mrs. Frye wrapped her arms tightly around Karina. She whispered in Karina's ear.

Karina's chest heaved with each breath. Her face glowed bright red.

“Calm, calm,” Mrs. Frye whispered. “We'll straighten this out.”

Delia kept her face covered, afraid Karina might attack again.

“If I let you go, will you promise not to attack Delia again?” Mrs. Frye demanded softly.

Delia lowered her hands.

Karina pulled in a long, shuddering breath. Then she nodded.

The detectives watched warily as Mrs. Frye released her.

“I cared about Vincent—and he cared about me!” Karina cried. “He did! I know he did!”

“It's okay, dear,” her mother crooned, rocking her back and forth. “It's okay. It will all be okay.”

“We need to take you and your daughter down to the station,” Detective Jamison said. “I advise you to call an attorney right away.”

Mrs. Frye nodded. She held on tightly to Karina.

“Poor Karina,” Delia murmured.

Then she followed the detectives down the stairs. Out the front door. Into the cool night.

Is it over? Delia wondered, taking a deep, deep breath.

Is it finally over?

Chapter

30

G
abe stepped back and held the door open for Delia. “It's so nice of you to suggest doing this,” he said. “Especially tonight. On prom night.”

He couldn't stop staring at Delia. She wore a prom dress she designed herself. Long purple satin with a high collar, and a low, low back.

“I wanted to,” Delia answered as they strolled across the parking lot. “Karina and I used to be friends … a long time ago. It just makes me so sad to think of her spending the night of her senior prom in a horrible place like this.”

Gabe opened one of the double doors leading into the Shadyside Psychiatric Hospital. “Coming here always makes me feel a little queasy,”
he confessed. “I don't know if it's the smell or …”

“Do you visit Karina a lot?” Delia asked.

“Yes. Once every week or so,” Gabe replied.

In her heels, Delia stood as tall as Gabe. She kissed him on the cheek. “That's so sweet of you,” she said.

Gabe didn't know if it was sweet exactly. More like something he felt he
should
do.

He kept wishing he had realized something was seriously wrong with Karina. Wishing he could have done something to help her—before she totally lost it.

Before she became so desperate, she had to kill.

“Wait here,” Gabe said. He paused at a couch near the waiting room door while Delia sat down. “I'll go talk to the nurse at the registration desk.”

Gabe hurried over to the nurse. He felt eager to get back to Delia.

He still couldn't believe that she had been going out with him for the past three weeks. And he couldn't believe that Delia was his date to the Shadyside senior prom.

“We're here to visit Karina Frye,” he told the nurse at the counter.

The nurse checked a chart. “Her doctor is with her now. But he'll be finished in a minute or two.”

“Thanks.” Gabe turned and headed back to Delia. He sat down close to her, close enough to
smell her flowery perfume. “We have to wait a few minutes.”

“I don't mind.” Delia snuggled closer to him. “I should be happy Karina is here where she belongs,” she said. “At least I know she's getting the help she needs.” Delia sighed. “And I don't have to worry about her anymore—worry about what terrible thing she'll do to me next. But school isn't the same without her. I can hardly imagine graduation without Karina there.”

“Hey! This is our prom night!” Gabe reminded her. “It's going to be the best night of our lives. No time for feeling sad.”

He adjusted the collar of his tuxedo shirt. “Besides, next year you'll be away at that fancy fashion school in New York. Just think about that, Delia. The winner of the Conklin Award. Loose in New York City!”

Delia played with Gabe's bow tie. “The Conklin Award.” She sighed, shaking her head.

Gabe stared at her. “Why do you say it that way?”

“It's not the way I wanted to win it,” Delia replied.

“Excuse me?”

A strange smile spread over Delia's face. A smile Gabe had never seen before. A knowing smile. Almost cruel.

“If only Karina had realized how much she already had,” Delia said softly.

Gabe's eyebrows rose up. “Huh? What she had?”

“She had Vincent. And she had the Conklin Award,” Delia replied, still smiling.

She tilted Gabe's bow tie one way, then the other. Her eyes flashed with excitement. The strange smile remained on her lips.

“Karina would have won, you know,” she told him. “She would have won them both. If I had let her.”

A cold shiver ran down Gabe's back. He pulled away from Delia.

And stared hard at her.

“Delia—what do you mean?” he demanded.

Chapter

31

“W
hat are you saying?” Gabe demanded. “What do you mean—you didn't let her win?”

“I took charge,” Delia said, grinning that fierce grin at him. “Don't you get it? I started with the small stuff. You know. Jamming the rat into my guitar and smearing purple lipstick over my paintings.”

She shook her head. “Getting that rat was so gross! I had to dig through the big garbage bin behind the school.”

Gabe uttered a choked cry.

Delia didn't seem to notice how shocked he was.

She continued her story. “I could tell those little
tricks wouldn't be enough. Karina was too pretty. And too talented. The judges loved her. So I had to do something else. Something more …”

Gabe wanted to jump up and run away. He suddenly couldn't stand sitting so near her. Couldn't stand her cruel smile or the way her eyes flashed so gleefully.

But he couldn't move.

Frozen in shock—in horror—he needed to hear more.

Delia's smile faded. The light in her eyes dimmed. “Then I caught Vincent making out with my disgusting sister,” she groaned bitterly. “Yuck. Just thinking about it turns my stomach.”

Delia stared at the floor.

Suddenly feeling cold and trembly, Gabe waited for her to continue.

“I guess that's when I figured out what I was going to do,” Delia began again in a whisper. “I couldn't let Vincent get away with that. I couldn't let him kiss my sister in front of me.”

Her voice became a growl. A furious growl.

“I was losing everything. Everything. Vincent. My sister. The award. I saw everything slip away.”

She blinked. “And then I suddenly knew what I had to do. I had to kill Vincent,” Delia declared, almost cheerfully. “I had to kill him for liking Karina better than me. And for kissing my sister. Kissing my sister. Kissing my sister … And if I
could pin the blame on Karina—then all my problems would be solved!”

Delia pulled a tube of Midnight Wine lipstick out of her purse. She smoothed a fresh coat over her lips. She pulled a tissue out of the box on the table. Then she blotted her lips, leaving a deep purple lip print.

Gabe couldn't stop another shiver from rushing down his back.

“So you … killed Vincent? The morning after the party?” he choked out.

“No way,” Delia shot back. “Vincent never drove me home that night. I killed him after everyone left. I had it all planned.”

The evil smile returned. “I was so smart, Gabe. I had it all planned. I killed Vincent. And I used a lip print on a paper just like this one to make the mark on his face.”

“And the lip prints in Karina's dresser drawer?” Gabe managed to ask.

Delia laughed. “I sneaked into Karina's house while she was at the party. I put them in her drawer.”

Delia made a pouty face. “Then I had to rip my own dress. What a shame. I loved that dress. I designed it myself. Red with all those beads.”

She sighed. “The hard part was bruising my wrists. That really hurt. But it was worth it—right? It was all worth it.”

She pulled her head back and gazed at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Wow. I've been talking and talking.” She raised a hand to her face. “What got me started? I don't know …”

Gabe could feel his cheeks growing hot. He knew they were bright red. He opened his mouth to speak. But no words came out.

“I guess I had to tell somebody,” Delia continued. “You look shocked. But you won't tell on me, will you, Gabe?”

She kissed his cheek.

Gabe swallowed hard. He could picture the purple lip print on his cheek.

“You won't tell on me—will you?” she asked in a little baby voice. “Will you?”

She kissed his ear. She kissed his cheek. His chin. His other cheek.

In the waiting room mirror, Gabe glimpsed his face, smeared with purple.

She kissed him. Kissed him again.

Kissed his forehead. His cheeks.

“You won't tell—will you? You won't forget what I did to Vincent. Will you?”

Gabe stared helplessly at his reflection, at his face, smeared with thick, purple stains.

“Will you? Will you?” She continued to rub her lips over his skin. “Will you, Vincent? I mean Gabe.”

A sound made Gabe turn.

Gazing over Delia's shoulder, he saw a white-coated doctor standing grim-faced at the doorway.

“I heard the whole story,” the doctor told Gabe. “I'll phone the police.”

About the Author

R.L. Stine invented the teen horror genre with Fear Street, the bestselling teen horror series of all time. He also changed the face of children's publishing with the mega-successful Goosebumps series, which
Guinness World Records
cites as the Best-Selling Children's Books ever, and went on to become a worldwide multimedia phenomenon. The first two books in his new series Mostly Ghostly,
Who Let the Ghosts Out?
and
Have You Met My Ghoulfriend?
are
New York Times
bestsellers. He's thrilled to be writing for teens again in the brand-new Fear Street Nights books.