Missing

Chapter 29

The drive isn't long but it's quiet. Too quiet. The radio doesn't help. I don't even have to turn it on to know that every radio station will be talking about this unidentified serial killer. Songs don't work either because I know that I will be able to connect every lyric to my twisted life. Just like Eldon said, 'it's all messed up.'

Once I reach Richelle's house, I see a shadow through the window on her front door.

I check my car to make sure I haven't left anything behind, then I jog up Richelle's long driveway. My legs are healing quite fast but I don't want to be the one to jinx everything.

"I'm glad you could come." Richelle greets me once I escaped the frost, "Have you heard about the murder in your school?" She's taunting me.

"Yes I have. Am I right to assume you had something to do with it?"

"I told you to save your questions." Richelle hisses then leads me to a room. It's private and looks to be an office. Bookshelves line the walls and a small window is on the far end. In the very middle is a desk made out of dark wood. The curtains are closed giving the room a 1930-black-and-white-detective-movie feel. The white French doors throw off the theme but it does make the room feel much more airy.

"Why did you ask me to come?" I ask.

"Take a seat and try to follow instructions. I will explain everything." Richelle doesn't look at me, instead, she moves behind the big desk and takes a seat on the gigantic spinny chair. I look around at all the files that flood the ground. Richelle nods to the black leather - and what appears to be expensive - chair in front of her on the other side of the desk. Cautiously, I take a seat.

"Alright." Richelle finally starts, "Let's play a game."

"I'm not playing tag with you." I struggle to keep all emotion out of my voice.

"It's not what you think." Richelle waits for me to respond but I insist on keeping a statue form, "We aren't fighting against each other, Emily. we have a common enemy, shouldn't we be teaming up?"

"If you have forgotten, we did, and it didn't turn out too well." I mutter. I'm the one that turned her crazy.

"Let me finish." She waits for my approval then begins again, "Ask me anything and I will answer truthfully. In return, you will tell me what this person has been doing to you."

"What do you mean "doing to me?"" I ask with a sudden burst of energy.

"Is that a question?" Richelle teases.

"Guess." I murmur.

The person that is sitting across from me laughs then leans forward on the desk. The small space between us becomes unbearable.

"Don't tell me this person hasn't been playing with you. I know a lot but I can't get all the answers from police files and old text messages. Tell me what you know. Every single detail must be true." She warns then sits back in her chair again, "You go first."

This whole time, I've been waiting for a way to get answers, now the solution is right in front of me and I can't think of anything.

"Um."

"I don't have all day." Richelle's words are empty. She won't let me go. Her answers are too precious.

"You're the only person other person that knows your friends are dead, how?" I stare into her dark eyes.

"You're not the only person that is being played with. Whoever this is, has been messing with me too. Why do you think I went mad. Why I'm still mad. I was sent videos. Videos of my friends dying." Richelle couldn't keep all of it in. She chokes on the word 'dying.'