We Know It Was You (23 page)

The computer screen flickered on. Benny dragged the chair back to the desk and plugged in the flash drive. The computer was so old and slow, it took a full twenty seconds before the icon popped up on the screen.
TOP SECRET,
it read.

“Christ, Virginia,” Benny whispered. He heard his mother's voice in his head:
Don't take other people's Lord's name in vain.

He clicked on the icon. It was empty.

He closed it and clicked it again. Still empty.

He pulled the flash drive out, blew on it, then plugged it back in. Nothing.

Two seconds later he was in Virginia's doorway. “Virginia.”

She looked up from a pile of papers she was organizing on the floor. “What?” she said testily.

“There's nothing on this.”

“What?”

“There's nothing on this,” he repeated.

“It's just the computer,” Virginia said. “It's a geezer.”

“You showed it to Zaire,” he half whispered, half hissed.

“What?”

Benny sighed impatiently and shut the door, a little more forcefully than necessary. “You showed the video to Zaire. Just tell me. I'm not mad; I just need to know all the facts.”

“I seriously have no idea what you're talking about.” She shoved a stack of papers into her desk drawer and slammed it shut.

“On Wednesday before the Sapphire Lounge.
I saw you
.”

“Oh my God, I didn't! I told you I didn't, and I wasn't lying.”

“Then what were you doing? I saw you with her on the computer, and now the video is gone.”

“I was fixing the Internet! I don't know! I barely remember! I just—I just—”

Is she about to cry?
Benny was angry, but anyone could see she wasn't lying. He quickly changed his tone. “It's all right. She probably . . . she probably hypnotized you.” As soon as he said it, he realized it made complete sense. “She hypnotized you,” he said again.

“Wait, no way,” Virginia said. “I mean, I think I would have known. She tried to hypnotize you and it didn't work.”

“Well yeah, but your mind is . . .”
Malleable? Impressionable?
He was having trouble coming up with a way to say it that wasn't essentially
You're stupid.

“Some people are better candidates for hypnosis than others,” he said tactfully, sitting on the edge of Virginia's freshly made bed. “There really should be laws against it, but no one takes hypnotism seriously. That book I was reading,
True Mesmerism
, it said that a hundred years ago hypnotism was, like, a serious medical science. There are documented cases of hypnotism being more effective than anesthesia during surgery. You just alleviate the patient's anxiety about pain. Without anxiety, pain is rendered powerless. I mean, what
is
pain without the anxiety and discomfort of experiencing it? Nothing! It's nothing! Just . . .
signals
sent to the brain to indicate that there's a knife sticking out of you. Hypnotism disrupts those signals, you see?” Benny looked at Virginia's blank face and realized he was rambling.

“Well, my point is, at some point in the last century,
hypnosis got discredited, as we became a society less oriented toward holistic therapy and more toward prescription drugs. . . .” He could tell she still wasn't following. “Okay. Basically, hypnosis is powerful and potentially dangerous, but there is no regulation, because no one takes it seriously.”

Virginia folded her arms. “My mind is what?”

Benny looked at the floor uncomfortably. Of course Virginia was only paying attention to the part about herself. “You're not very . . . focused,” he said. “You're easy to manipulate.”

Virginia glared at him. “I . . . I am not!”

“Yes you are. Think about it. You do whatever I say. I mean, it's good! I value that about you.”

“I'm sure you do,” Virginia said. Her cheeks were inflamed.

“Calm down; I'm not trying to insult you.” He tried to explain. “You're easy to lead. It's a good quality. Some people can't be led, because they're too stubborn and full of ego. But that's not you.”

Virginia wouldn't look at him. He went on. “The only problem is that Zaire took advantage of it. She used your mind against you to get the video. She must have heard about it from Gerard. . . . So it's your own fault, because if you hadn't told Gerard—” He stopped, realizing this probably wasn't helping. “We all have different strengths and weaknesses,” he said conclusively.

“What's your weakness?” Virginia asked. She was still
sitting on the floor, looking at him challengingly, with a cocked chin and narrow eyes.

“Um . . . I dunno . . . maybe . . .”

“Maybe the fact that you think you have no weaknesses is a weakness.”

“I know I have weaknesses,” Benny said lowly. “Social weaknesses. I'm too polite. I give social constructs too much power.”

Virginia frowned, obviously deciding whether or not it was worth it to keep arguing. “You were pretty rude to the nurse,” she said finally. “That was cool.”

“Thanks . . .” The truce felt flimsy and temporary, but Benny didn't know what else to say.

Virginia went back to folding her clothes. Benny sat awkwardly, wondering if he should offer to help. He didn't really know how to fold clothes. His mother always did the laundry and left everything in neat stacks on his bed.

“So what is the deal? Zaire was trying to kill Brittany?”

“Um, yes. Evidently. She's the figure in the video at the edge of the bridge. I think she tried to hypnotize Brittany to kill herself by jumping off the bridge. But it was Mr. Choi in the suit. . . . What's ironic is that if she hadn't done that crazy performance, I probably wouldn't have suspected her. And the way she meddled with you? She needs to learn not to interfere. There are moving parts in any plan. You have to just let them
move
.”

“Why would she want to kill Brittany?”

Benny bristled a bit. Wasn't it obvious? “Because she hates cheerleaders. And school spirit. And Brittany is the mascot.”

Virginia laughed, then quickly stopped. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Well, yeah.”

Virginia looked at him. “Isn't that a little childish?”

Benny tensed. Who was she calling childish, Zaire or him? “It's immature, I guess. A lot of murderers are immature.”

“Zaire's not.”

“Well she . . . I dunno. I mean, it makes sense.”

“No it doesn't.”

Benny stared at her as she continued to fold her clothes. “Well what's your brilliant explanation?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I'm just saying, I know Zaire. I've lived with her for a year. She doesn't give a shit about anyone but herself. Why would she bother killing Brittany just because cheerleaders are annoying?”

“Well . . . what about the spirit show?” Benny argued. “Why would she bother doing that?”

“To show off how great and amazing she is. But killing people? You can't brag about that. No one can ever find out how masterful you are. I'm telling you, she wouldn't bother.”

Benny felt his mind straining to work around what she was saying. Somehow, without even trying that hard, Virginia just understood people. It was a skill Benny lacked,
and one he was beginning to think was more important than he'd realized. He didn't want to believe her though. He liked his version of events. It made sense.

“But . . . I feel like I'm really on the right track here. The odd, out-of-control movements of the mascot? Zaire's obvious derision for cheerleaders? The fact that she tried to hypnotize a book out of my hands. She knows I'm onto her. I
know
it was her. I can feel it really clearly.”

“I'm not saying it wasn't her,” Virginia said defensively. “I believe you that it was her. I mean, the more I think about it, Zaire would totally probably kill someone. I'm just saying it wasn't because she hates cheerleaders. Zaire isn't that simple.”

“Fine, okay,” Benny said. “It's acceptable to know the
who
before the
why
. . . . Maybe Choi actually was her target. Maybe that was the plan, and the plan worked. Except how is she even connected to Choi? She's not a cheerleader, and she's not in band. . . . Maybe she realized he was a pervert, and just wanted to take care of it herself. . . .” Benny trailed off.

“That doesn't sound like Zaire either,” Virginia said. “She's not gonna stick her neck out for a bunch of cheerleaders.”

“Unless he was videotaping her, too.”

“She's not his type though,” Virginia argued, starting a new pile of folded clothes. “She's not cute or perky, she doesn't giggle and bounce around . . .”

Benny felt frustrated. Was he not seeing this clearly? “Zaire is smart,” he said. “Why would she do that hypnotist act for the spirit show? Is she crazy? Drawing attention to herself like that . . .”

Virginia shut another drawer. “Zaire's not as smart as she thinks she is. She's not smart about boys.”

Benny stood up. He needed some air and some time to think by himself. “If you see Zaire, don't talk to her. Don't even look at her, if you can help it.”

“Are we gonna take her down?” Virginia asked, an excited grin taking over her face.

“We're not the Take Down Club,” Benny said carefully, not wanting to start a fresh argument so soon after the last one. Virginia was unpredictable in how much antagonism she could take before snapping at him. “There's this philosophy in aikido that you stare death in the face not so you can fight it, but so you can understand it.”

“Huh?”

Benny sighed. “Revenge and anger are petty reactions. I don't want to take Zaire down; I want to understand her and embrace her with compassion.”

Virginia snorted loudly. “You want to hug her? For killing someone?”

“Well not literally. That's just a Zen saying. Whatever. What I'm saying is, you and me, we solve the mystery, and that's the reward. We use our power to understand, not to punish.”

“Hm,” Virginia said, and Benny felt his cheeks heat up with annoyance.
Hm
. It was way too similar to his mother's classic
Mm-hm
. He was so tired of being around people who
hm
'd at him like he was insane. How did the world get so messed up that having compassion made you a person to be
hm
'd at?

“And anyway,” Benny added, “Zaire's sabotaging herself enough without our help. She'll bring herself down.”

“You think so?” Virginia asked.

Benny paused for a moment, then said, “Yeah. She's out of control, even her own control. I got this vibe from her. . . . I don't know. I think she's going to do it again—another ‘halftime show.' It could even be me or you, now that she knows we know.”

Virginia shivered. “Omigod, you just gave me goose bumps! See? Look, do you see?”

“It's an issue of public safety at this point. Someone's going to get hurt.”

Virginia wondered at what point a normal person would have called the police and handed over their information. Probably a while ago. But she knew Benny well enough to know he'd rather die than hand a mystery over to adults. It was kind of scary, his willingness to endanger his own life—and hers—to stay in control.

“Are you sure we shouldn't tell someone?” she asked.

“What would we say? That we think a straight-A student hypnotized a teacher to jump off a bridge? No way. There's
no proof. They wouldn't believe us, and even if they did, they'd just screw it up and make it that much harder for us to figure out anything. We can handle this ourselves. It'll be easy. Zaire's weakness is that she's a perfectionist. Her plans only work in a perfect world where everything goes perfectly. All we have to do is remove some element of the equation, and the whole thing will fall apart. . . .”

Benny's voice trailed off. The element was obvious.

The Wildcat.

The gym hallway, 4:00 p.m.

Virginia stepped between the enormous banners lying on the floor. Half-empty cans of paint sat nearby with abandoned brushes sticking out of them. The banners looked like they'd been painted by illiterates.
Wilscats killing you!! Go Wiltscat. Rildcats Roars! WILDdogd,
one even read.

“Does Winship have the stupidest cheerleaders on the planet or what?” Virginia said, shaking her head.

Benny looked down at the jumbled slogans. The mistakes were beyond spelling errors—whoever had made these signs was obviously on drugs or something.

He stopped at the door to the girls' locker room. “This is as far as I can go. You think you can do this?”

Virginia nodded. “As long as the hallway stays empty.”

“I'll keep a look out. If someone's here, I'll knock. Knocking means don't come out.”

“Okay.”

“What does knocking mean?”

Virginia rolled her eyes. “It means come on out and sing a loud song.”

Before Benny could say anything else, Virginia pushed the door open with a
swoosh
and disappeared inside.

It smelled like mildew and swimming pool, with an aggressive top note of body spray and vanilla air freshener. Virginia wondered if the boys even bothered trying to keep their locker room smelling nice. Probably not.

Pom-poms sat on the benches next to quilted Vera Bradley bags and pairs of Kate Spade clogs. It was a wonder any of the cheerleaders ever managed to go home with their own possessions—all their stuff was interchangeable. As Virginia passed the rows of gray lockers, she realized she was tiptoeing.
Act natural,
she willed herself. She had every right to be in there, after all—she was a girl, wasn't she? Which was the entire reason Benny needed her, apparently. Not because she was brilliant and talented, but because she was a girl and could go into the girls' locker room. But Virginia was trying not to feel too annoyed. At least Benny was letting her do something.