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Authors: Milda Harris

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Cozy, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery, #Humor, #Young Adult, #dark comedy, #chick lit, #Contemporary, #teen, #Love Stories, #funeral, #mystery for girls, #mystery stories, #mystery female sleuth, #mystery ebook, #mystery and romance, #graveryard

Adventures in Funeral Crashing (19 page)

BOOK: Adventures in Funeral Crashing
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I nodded at Suzie, “Please ask Kyle to the
dance. He’s dying to ask you, but for whatever reason he thinks
you’ll say no.”

Suzie looked horrified, “I wouldn’t say no. I
swear. You really think he’d say yes?”

I smiled at her, “Definitely. Go ask
him.”

Suzie looked at me hopefully. I gave her a
playful push and she got up and walked toward my lab table, where
Kyle was trying not to look at us.

Suzie walked over to Kyle and stood there
awkwardly. How could I have thought even for a moment that Suzie
was a killer? She couldn’t even say anything to Kyle about the
dance and Kyle was gazing up at her like she was a goddess.

“Hey, Suzie,” was all Kyle managed to
say.

Suzie pounced on it as a good sign and said,
in the most rapid way possible, “Kyle, do you want to go to
Homecoming with me?”

Kyle looked like he had been shot, but in a
good way. It took him a moment, but suddenly he had a huge grin,
“Yes!”

Then they just stood there grinning at each
other awkwardly. It was so cute! I sighed. At least they were
getting their happily ever after. I still didn’t have a date for
the Homecoming Dance and I was neck deep involved in a rapidly
confusing and potentially deadly murder investigation. At least I
had narrowed it down – Troy or Jenna, Jenna or Troy. My mind was
going over and over all the details. I was going to figure this out
if it killed me. I hoped it didn’t.

I checked my Facebook email in the library
quickly before lunch, but there was still no response from Jenna.
Maybe because she is the murderer, I couldn’t help thinking. Then
again, I had to be fair, there was no voicemail from Troy yet
either, calling me back. They could both have actual lives to deal
with. I looked again at the email from Jane Austen. I printed it.
Just in case.

I sat down at my usual lunch table, alone,
wondering if Ethan was going to join me. We had parted on such
awful terms the night before that I thought things might go back to
the way they were before, where he stopped remembering I existed.
Even though I still thought I was right, I kind of missed Ethan. I
opened up my bag lunch of peanut butter and jelly, a Coke,
pretzels, and an apple. It was going to be lonely today at
lunch.

And, then suddenly there was Ethan, sitting
down across from me with his own paper bag lunch, “Jenna just left
me a message, all freaked out.”

I almost spit my Coke out all over him, “She
did?”

“Yeah, she did. What did you email her? She
just kept saying, ‘What did Kait say to Troy?’” Ethan looked
annoyed with me.

I felt defensive, “I didn’t say anything bad
in the email. I only asked her if she was the one who dated
Troy.”

“Well, maybe you should just leave her alone.
Troy freaks her out,” Ethan warned.

Why was Ethan suddenly soooo protective of
Jenna? I was mad and wanted to shock him, “Well, maybe that’s
because Jenna is the murderer!”

Ethan started laughing instead. “Jenna? You
think Jenna?”

He couldn’t stop laughing and I was getting
super annoyed. “Yes, I do.”

“But she’s so tiny!” Ethan wiped a tear from
his eye.

I wanted to kill him. “So? She knew everyone,
just like Troy. I mean, I don’t know about Melissa Kent, but
still.”

Ethan looked suddenly serious, “How do you
know that?”

“Suzie Whitsett knows Jenna. I hadn’t thought
about it before, but I asked her about Jenna today and Jenna knows
everyone!” I wanted to go over the evidence again. I was sure the
pieces would fit.

“Except Melissa Kent,” Ethan said
stubbornly.

“Okay, well, I just don’t know about Melissa
Kent. She might have known her. Maybe she had her as a math tutor
too,” I rationalized. “Or maybe she stalked Troy and saw them
together. I don’t know.”

Ethan opened his lunch bag, “But until you
find out, you’re right, you don’t know. It’s a hole in your
logic.”

“A little one,” I was getting angry
again.

Ethan sighed, “Come on, Kait. Jenna is a
teeny tiny girl. How in the world could she force a heroin needle
into the arms of four girls? Troy is the one with the muscle.”

“But Jenna’s lying!” I whined.

Ethan thought for a moment. “Maybe she is
lying about Troy. One of the two sisters dated him. We know that.
Like I said before, maybe she’s just scared he’ll come after her
too. Have you really thought about that?”

I had thought about it and dismissed it.
Although, I guess if I thought my sister had been murdered by my
ex-boyfriend, I may not want him to think about murdering me
too.

Ethan continued. “Maybe Troy killed the wrong
sister. Maybe he thought he was killing Jenna, but killed Vanessa
instead. Have you thought of that? Poor girl. No wonder she’s so
freaked out.”

I sighed.

Ethan took that as a sign to go on, “And, I
mean her sister just died. Do you know how that feels? Give her a
break.”

Ethan was making me feel bad, playing that
card. He was right. I didn’t know how it felt to lose a sister. I
had no siblings, but I had lost a mother. So, I did know how it
felt to lose someone you really cared about and knew for your
entire life. I looked at the table still not wanting to be
dissuaded from my suspicions.

Ethan looked at me, “Oh come on, you can be
wrong sometimes.”

I frowned. “I haven’t decided yet if I’m
wrong or not. We haven’t cleared anyone.”

Ethan nodded, “And, that’s something I wanted
to talk to you about. I think this is getting dangerous. I mean,
you almost kissed a…”

I looked at him with warning.

Ethan continued, “…an alleged murderer last
night.”

I snorted, “Please.”

“Hey, I’m giving you Jenna as a suspect,”
Ethan reminded me.

“Fine,” I said reluctantly. “Then what do you
make of this?”

I pulled the printout of the email from Jane
Austen out of my History book and handed it to Ethan. He read it
quickly and looked up at me, instantly alarmed.

“When did you get this?” he asked.

“Last night after I got home,” I said.

“This is getting dangerous,” Ethan raked a
hand through his hair and read the letter again. I almost forgot to
notice how sexy his hair was. Almost.

“Yeah. I’m totally freaked out,” I said,
seriously. “And, see, Jenna doesn’t look so innocent anymore, does
she?”

Ethan smirked at me, “Troy could be totally
psychotic too.”

We were at an impasse on the issue. I voted
for Jenna as the suspect and Ethan was still gunning for Troy.
Either of us could be right. Or, the murderer could totally
blindside both of us and turn out to be Suzie, but I had already
dismissed that. Besides, I didn’t need to confuse Ethan any more,
so I wasn’t even going to bring Suzie up as a suspect.

“I’m scared,” I admitted instead.

Ethan nodded and looked up from his third
time reading the letter, “I think we need to get ourselves out of
this and hand it over to the people who know what they’re
doing.”

“But, Ethan, the police wouldn’t even listen
to us last time!” I pleaded.

“Well, we have to make them listen,” Ethan
looked at me intently, “Come with me after school. Help me convince
Detective Dixon that he at least needs to look into Troy
Matthews.”

“And, Jenna Martin,” I reminded him.

Ethan frowned, “Fine, if you give me Troy,
I’ll give you Jenna.”

“But what proof do we have of anything?” I
asked, frustrated.

Ethan looked at me, “We have proof that Troy
and Jenna knew most of the victims. Suzie can place them both
potentially there within Liz’s last hour alive.”

I smirked at him, “But they just think these
are overdoses, remember?”

“Well, then, we’ll have to convince them
they’re not. There are plenty of people who would say that Liz was
totally unlikely to overdose on heroin,” Ethan offered.

“Probably not good enough for Detective
Dixon,” I said.

“We have to do something and now we have
proof of two letters - one to Liz from Mary Shelley and one to you
from Jane Austen. Even Detective Dixon will have to admit that it’s
weird. What if the other girls got something like that? This is
getting dangerous. So, are you in for coming to the police station
with me or what?”

I frowned at Ethan, torn. “I can’t. I have to
work.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 19: Murder Solving

I did have to
go to work. I wasn’t lying. If I showed up late or called in sick
again, Anne was going to fire me or at least she should since it
would be the zillionth time I’d flaked out in the last two weeks.
And, even so, I might have ditched work again, but I was a little
annoyed with Ethan. I didn’t think we should go to the police yet.
I know I got that email and that was definitely a warning, but we
had at the very least a few days before someone came after me. Liz
had gotten the email over a week before she was killed. I wanted
the killer to have the time to take the bait.

Ethan could go battle it out with Detective
Dixon and his styrofoam cups alone. That guy irked me too. It
wasn’t like the Detective was going to listen to something a couple
of kids had to say. He had made that abundantly clear. Twice. Ethan
was probably wasting his time. I just hoped Detective Dixon did
listen when the time came that we really needed him to. Like, if
someone really did decide to kill me by overdosing me with heroin
or something.

I was about to get out of my car and walk
into work when my phone beeped. Ethan had texted me:
Here at the
station, waiting. Sure you don’t wanna be here to help?

I texted back, feeling mean:
Can’t. But
maybe Troy will come and meet up with me at work, though, if you’re
looking for him. Still want to talk to him about Jenna.

I don’t know what possessed me to write that.
I half hoped Ethan actually did think Troy would come visit me at
work. Not that Troy would probably ever speak to me again after the
way Ethan, my “friend,” had freaked out on him. Still, Troy had
said I should call him once I got the whole Ethan thing sorted out,
so maybe there was still a chance I could get him to take me to
Homecoming. After I made sure he wasn’t a serial killer and all. I
mean, it wasn’t like Ethan was going to ask me.

I threw my cell back into my purse, locked
the car, and walked toward the store. It was empty when I walked
in, but I saw the glow of Anne’s television through her office
window. She must have started her daily movie early. She must still
trust me, to have started it before I even got in. I was glad to
know that she didn’t think I was a total flake.

I had just set my purse down behind the
counter and was pulling out my copy of
Anne of Green Gables
that I wanted to finish reading, when I heard the door chimes
jingle. I looked up, getting ready to smile and say, hello to a
customer. Instead, I froze.

Troy Matthews had just walked into the store.
What was he doing here? I hadn’t actually called him to invite him
to visit with me despite my text to Ethan. What was going on? I
knew he couldn’t be psychic and besides, I hadn’t told him I worked
here. We hadn’t had time to get that far between the interrogating
and almost making out the other night. He hadn’t even called me
back from the night before. Troy finally spotted me and started
walking toward the counter.

I didn’t know what to do, so I simply said,
“What are you doing here?”

“You IMed me,” he said, walking closer. “And
you left me a voicemail.”

I did leave him a voicemail the night before,
but I sure as hell did not IM him and tell him to meet me at work.
I didn’t even know his IM name. I looked toward the back office. At
least Anne was there, if Troy tried anything…like killing me.

“I didn’t IM you,” I felt my voice crack. I
had been so sure that Troy wasn’t the psychopath too. I suddenly
wished I had gone with Ethan to pay Detective Dixon a visit.

Troy frowned, “Yes, you did. You wanted me to
meet you here.”

Boy, was he insistent. Was it better to argue
or appease an insane person? “Uh, ok, sure,” I managed.

Troy was almost at the counter now. Anne had
a button to call the police in her office, near the safe. Maybe I
could signal her somehow if I could get her away from her movie for
a minute.

“Hey, Anne!” I yelled toward the back. “Can
you help me out here?”

I turned toward the office, expecting to see
Anne poke her head out, but instead I was surprised to see Jenna
Martin, and that she had a gun.

“I knew it!” I yelled, forgetting that I was
in mortal danger for a moment, even if it wasn’t from Troy. Unless,
that is, they were in on it together. I backed into my area behind
the corner so I could see the both of them.

Troy seemed as surprised as I was,
“Jenna?”

“Hi, Troy,” She said sweetly, while still
aiming the gun at each of us in turn. “And, it’s Vanessa,
actually.”

“Vanessa?” Troy and I both said at the same
time. I mean, Vanessa was dead and all so it was a reasonable
question for both of us.

“Yes, Vanessa,” she answered both of us.
“Jenna is the one who died last week.”

“Jenna’s dead?” Troy was confused.

“Poor, poor Troy,” Vanessa and not Jenna said
to him and then looked at me, “What Troy here doesn’t understand is
that Jenna and I used to play a game with some of the guys that we
dated. We’d switch on them. And, well, I fell in love with Troy and
told Jenna to stay away from him. She didn’t, in fact, she slept
with him just to spite me and then she broke it off with him. When
I tried to get him back, he thought I was crazy.”

Poor Troy did look really confused. “You sent
me all those weird letters? Not Jenna?”

“I loved you!” Vanessa cried passionately to
Troy. “I still do! You and I could be together! That’s why I kept
writing to you! But your ignored me! You kept dating other people!
First Olivia, then Melissa, and then Liz! Now her! I loved
you!”

BOOK: Adventures in Funeral Crashing
4.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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