Scarlet Wakefield 01 - Kiss Me Kill Me (20 page)

And something tells me that Taylor will be really good at helping with that, too.  .  .  .

ENOUGH WITH WISHES

I’m racing up the drive. God, that Sunday train was even slower than I was expecting! I paced up and down the carriage as if I had live electricity under my feet, hissing with impatience every time the train jerked to a halt between stations and left me staring at the blank wall of a railway embankment. I’m in a panic that I’ll miss the dinner bell, and I’m so keen to tell Taylor everything I’ve found out that I’ve run all the way from the station, tearing up the path from Wakefield Village. The gravel on the drive is catching in the soles of my sneakers, slowing me down, and I swerve onto the grass instead so that I can pick up full speed again.

Evening sunlight’s flooding down through the oak branches and dappling onto the grass. It’s so strong that when I catch a flash of red moving through the trees, it takes me a moment to realize what it is.

Jase Barnes. He’s dressed up as if he’s going out—a poppy-red shirt that looks great against his dark gold skin, and black jeans that make his long legs look even longer. Wow. He’s walking away from me, round the corner of the new school wing, and as I watch, he disappears from view.

My legs are pumping the grass like I’m a sprinter leading the pack, going for the finishing line. I skid off the grass, onto the concrete paving, and execute a perfect ninety-degree turn—not right for the dining hall, but left, heading straight for Jase. I swing round the corner of the building and see him turning down the path that leads to the Barneses’ cottage. As soon as my feet start pounding hard concrete, he hears someone running toward him, and swings around. His eyes widen with surprise.

“Scarlett! Where are you going?” he exclaims.

I’m all sweaty from running. No makeup, no lip gloss, no high heels, no miniskirt, just a nasty old hoodie and jeans. I’m a foot shorter than him in my trainers. But I don’t care about my nonexistent grooming or my midget height or my shiny face. I’m so high on my recent successful spying mission that I feel like I own the world, and the part of it I’m most interested in is standing slap bang in front of me.

I want to plant a flag in this territory, claim it as mine. And before I can think about what the hell I’m doing (because if I do think about it, I’ll never get up the nerve to go for it), I jump up on tiptoes and place my hands on his shoulders so I’m barely high enough to reach his lips. And then I kiss him full on the mouth, just long enough to feel my body pressed up against his, the heft of his shoulder muscles under my palms, the hard curves of his chest against mine, the light tangy enticing smell of his aftershave  .  .  .

Oh God, my head is spinning. I swivel on my toes and spin around and shoot off as if the hounds of hell were after me. Which they will be, in the person of Miss Newman, if I don’t make it to the dining hall in time. The bell’s ringing just as I get there, and as I fall in with the last stragglers pushing to make it through the swing doors on the dot of seven, I look back, gasping for breath. He’s still standing there, gaping after me. He raises one hand and feebly flickers his fingers at me: he looks like he’s in shock.

There’s a grin on my face that feels like it’s lighting up the whole of my body. I’m so happy I could literally jump for joy. I turn and dash through the doors, and across the room I see Taylor waving at me madly from the end of a table, her expression one big question mark.

My hand goes up to pat the papers in the inside pocket of my jacket. Still there. I stand for a moment, catching my breath, and then I head across the crowded dining hall in Taylor’s direction.

I started out this year with two wishes. Well, enough with wishes. I’m too old for them now. Wishes are just weedy things. I’m making resolutions now.

Number one: solve the mystery of Dan’s murder. And number two: get Jase Barnes to be the one who grabs me and kisses me next time. I want him to run up to me, wrap those gorgeous muscular arms of his around me, and kiss me like he’d been thinking about nothing else but doing precisely that since I planted one on him and ran away.

I’d say that’s more than enough to be getting on with, wouldn’t you?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lauren Henderson was born in London and lived in Tuscany and Manhattan before returning to London to settle down with one husband and two very fat cats. She has written seven books in the Sam Jones mystery series, which has been optioned for American TV; many short stories; and three romantic comedies. Her nonfiction dating guide, Jane Austen’s Guide to Dating, has been optioned as a feature film by the writer behind Ten Things I Hate About You and Ella Enchanted. Lauren’s books have been translated into more than twenty languages. With Stella Duffy, she has edited an anthology of women-behaving-badly crime stories, Tart Noir; their joint Web site is www.tartcity.com. Lauren has been described as both the Dorothy Parker and the Betty Boop of the crime novel. Her interests include trapeze classes, gymnastics, and eating complex carbohydrates.

ALSO BY LAUREN HENDERSON

Adult Nonfiction

Jane Austen’s Guide to Dating

Adult Fiction

Tart Noir (anthology, edited with Stella Duffy)

Exes Anonymous

My Lurid Past

Don’t Even Think About It

Pretty Boy

Chained

The Strawberry Tattoo

Freeze My Margarita

Black Rubber Dress

Too Many Blondes

Dead White Female

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2008 by Lauren Henderson

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in hardcover by Delacorte Press in 2008.

Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

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The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows:

Henderson, Lauren.

Kiss me kill me / Lauren Henderson.

p. cm.

Summary: Longing to be part of the in-crowd at her exclusive London school, orphaned, sixteen-year-old Scarlett, a trained gymnast, eagerly accepts an invitation to a party whose disastrous outcome changes her life forever.

eISBN: 978-0-375-89184-7

[1. Popularity—Fiction. 2. Orphans—Fiction. 3. Friendship—Fiction. 4. Wealth—Fiction. 5. Bullying—Fiction. 6. Murder—Fiction. 7. High schools—Fiction. 8. Schools—Fiction. 9. Mystery and detective stories. 10. England—Fiction.] 1. Title.

PZ7.H3807Kis 2008

[Fic]—dc22

2007027653

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