All-Night Party (12 page)

“Why did you decide to tell me tonight?”

“I heard you tell Cindy and Hannah that you didn't want to see Marco anymore. So I thought, Cool, now I can tell her,” Jackson explained. “Then when Marco
showed up here, I got angry. Then so many awful things started happening…”

Jackson shook his head. “I wanted to stop being a wimp. And just tell you how I felt. I mean, in case anything happens to us.”

Gretchen stared at him in disbelief.

Jackson
liked
her?

“Marco and I broke up tonight,” Gretchen said. She didn't know why she wanted Jackson to know that bit of information, but she did.

His face lit up. “Really? Um, does that mean maybe you and I—”

“Why don't we try to get through tonight first?” Gretchen sighed.

He nodded.

“We should find the others,” Gretchen suggested. She started back up the muddy hill.

Jackson followed.

Gretchen felt safer than she had since finding Cindy's body. At least now there was
one
person she could trust.

Jackson likes me, she thought. That's so weird.

Forcing thoughts of Jackson out of her mind, Gretchen concentrated on reaching the top of the hill. Because of the mud, they kept slipping and sliding. But soon she could see the top.

As they neared it, Jackson held out his hand to help her up.

Gretchen grasped it, holding tight as Jackson pulled her up.

“We made it,” he said breathlessly.

Gretchen turned toward Jackson, about to reply.

But before she could get the words out, a scream of horror ripped through the night.

“It's Hannah!” Gretchen cried.

Chapter
32

G
retchen froze.

The scream seemed to come from the cabin.

She and Jackson raced in that direction.

A second terror-filled scream cut through the night.

Don't let us be too late, Gretchen begged silently. Please—don't let us be too late!

Leading the way, Gretchen ran through the woods as fast as she could. She pushed away the branches whipping at her face and clothes.

She had to get to Hannah!

As the trees thinned out, Gretchen could see the outline of the cabin at the end of the trail.

And she could hear Hannah's screams.

She was still alive!

Gretchen's eyes searched the ground for a weapon
she could use against the killer. Spying a sharp, heavy rock, she grabbed it.

Gretchen raced out of the woods with Jackson behind her. She hurtled toward the cabin, expecting to see Hannah struggling with the killer.

Yes! Hannah! Outside the cabin. Twisting to free herself from someone's hold.

Who was it?

Gretchen squinted through the darkness.

Then she recognized Gil, holding Hannah's arms.

Marco and Patrick stepped up beside him. All three of them were trying to drag Hannah inside.

Gretchen watched as Hannah kicked and screamed. She clutched the door frame of the cabin with both hands.

Marco and Gil held Hannah tightly as Patrick pried her fingers free and shoved her inside.

She kicked out at Patrick.

Pain washed over Patrick's face as he clutched his knee.

Gretchen and Jackson hurried up the front path and into the cabin. They found everyone in the front room.

Gil, Marco, and Patrick had surrounded Hannah in a circle.

She sat on the floor. Her mud-spattered clothes clung wetly to her.

She gazed up at Gretchen with a hunted expression on her face, like a rabbit surrounded by snarling dogs.

“Why are you doing this?” Hannah shrieked. “I didn't do anything.”

“When you and I went down to the dock to look at the stars, you left me. You said you were cold. You went back to the cabin to get your sweater,” Gil remembered. “You could have killed Cindy then, Hannah. Then planted all the evidence to frame Patrick.”

Gretchen turned to Gil. “Why didn't you say anything about this before?” she demanded. “Why didn't you tell us Hannah went back to the cabin?”

Gil shrugged. “I didn't think it mattered. I thought the escaped prisoner killed Cindy. Then I thought it was Patrick. But now I'm not so sure.”

“I got my sweater. Then when I got back to the dock, you weren't there,” Hannah cried to Gil.
“You
could have murdered Cindy and framed Patrick. Not me.

Neither Hannah nor Gil have alibis, Gretchen realized.

Either one of them could be the killer.

“If anyone in this room wanted Cindy dead, it was you, Hannah!” Patrick declared. “You
hated
her.”

“I didn't do it!” Hannah cried.

“Then why did you run away?” Marco demanded.

“Because I want to go home,” Hannah sobbed. “I'm scared and I want to go home. That's the only reason.”

“We know the real reason you ran away,” Patrick suddenly accused. “You were trying to escape. Because you killed Cindy.”

Gretchen watched as Hannah's features hardened.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips.

She stared at Patrick defiantly.

A cold smile hovered on her lips, and her eyes narrowed.

“You're right!” Hannah declared. “I
did
kill Cindy.”

Chapter
33

“I
've killed at least twenty people,” Hannah declared. “Now I'm going to kill all of you. Then I'm going back to Shadyside and kill everyone there!”

Gretchen stared at Hannah in shock.

But then she realized that Hannah was being sarcastic.

“How could you accuse me of such a thing?” Hannah lashed out. “There's a murderer in this room. But it's not me.” She put her head down and began sobbing again.

Gretchen ran her tongue over her lips while listening to Hannah. Her lips felt so dry.

Finding her purse on the coffee table, Gretchen opened it up on her lap and started searching for her Chap Stick.

She sifted through an open pack of gum, a roll of breath mints, a hairbrush and comb, a pink hair band, her wallet, and loose change.

She dug around the bottom of the purse, trying to find the tiny tube of Chap Stick.

“Hey—” she cried out as her purse fell off her lap. Everything inside spilled out, scattering across the floor.

Gretchen bent down to pick up the fallen items. As she tossed them back into her purse, she came across a folded note.

Curious, she picked the folded note off the floor and opened it.

She quickly scanned the written words on the crinkled piece of paper, barely reading them. It was an old note. She didn't even remember now why she saved it.

She started to put the note back into her purse, but then stopped.

With trembling fingers, Gretchen stared at the words again.

It can't be, she thought. I have to be wrong.

Gretchen read the note a second time, much more carefully, and her eyes widened with horror. She felt a chill run up her spine as she realized the awful truth.

I know who the killer is.

Chapter
34

“G
retchen?” Jackson's voice broke into Gretchen's thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Patrick—why did you do it?” Gretchen asked in a hoarse whisper. “Why did you kill Cindy?”

“What are you talking about?” Patrick demanded angrily. “I thought we settled this.”

Gretchen gazed at Patrick with disbelief. He looks so innocent, but he's not.

Patrick is a cold-blooded killer.

He planned this to the smallest detail. And he almost pulled it off.

Almost.

Everyone turned to stare at Gretchen.

Gretchen shook her head sadly. She felt the words
stick in her throat. “You killed her, Patrick. And I have the proof. Real proof this time.”

“Proof? What proof? Why do you think I killed her?” Patrick demanded. “Why would I do such a thing?”

Gretchen held up the note she had found in her purse. “This is a note you wrote to me, saying that you would bring the soda for the party.”

“So?” Patrick remarked. “What's the big deal?”

“It's the same handwriting as the note that Cindy supposedly wrote to you,” Gretchen announced.
“You
wrote that note, Patrick.
You
left it in your backpack.”

“Are you sure?” Gil snatched the note out of Gretchen's hand. He examined it closely.

“Where are Cindy's history notes?” Jackson asked. “And the note we found in Patrick's backpack. Let's compare them to this note.”

Gretchen reached into her jeans pocket and took out the notes. She handed them to Marco, and he spread them out on the coffee table.

Jackson and Gil sat down on either side of him and studied the notes.

“Gretchen is right,” Marco said, looking up at Patrick. “The writing matches.”

Hannah peeked at the note. “How can you tell?”

“Take a look at the ‘y' in the note Patrick wrote to me,” Gretchen explained. “It's written the same squiggly way as the ‘y' in the note we found in his backpack. Patrick wrote both notes.”

Patrick uttered a hoarse cry. “I wrote a note to myself? I wrote a note to make myself look guilty?”

He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, Gretchen. I think you've really lost it now.”

Gretchen felt the tension in her body pulling every muscle taut. Her head pounded.

“You know what you did, Patrick,” Gretchen replied slowly. “You planted all the evidence against yourself. You framed
yourself
—didn't you, Patrick? To throw suspicion on someone else.”

“Maybe I did,” Patrick replied coldly.

He reached into his black leather jacket.

And pulled out the pistol.

“And now maybe I have no choice. Maybe I have to kill you all,” he sneered.

Chapter
35

H
annah screamed.

“Put it down!” Gretchen cried. She took a step toward Patrick.