When senior students at Lincoln High receive the same deadly text message, it falls upon Helena Gallagher and an unlikely companion to solve the mystery and catch the killer.
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High school student, Helena Gallagher is a murder fanatic. A devoted...
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Elliot and I say nothing more as Detective Saunders scribbles down notes, writing at lightning speed. His eyebrows furrow as the pen glides across the page, spilling secrets. He's left-handed and I notice on more than one occasion the smudges he creates as a result of being so. Blue ink gathers in blotches, irritating me. Making me anxious.
"Anything else?" he asks, looking up.
"Nothing I can think of," reveals Elliot. "Helena?"
"Nope."
Last night–over text–Elliot and I decided to share our findings with the police. We want the killer caught as quickly as possible. More so now that he or she has reason to fear me.
Thank you, Chloe!
"This is really valuable information," says Saunders. "But I must admit, how you got such information is worrying. I can't stress enough how dangerous it is to go digging around a case like this. From now on, let us police officers do our job."
We both nod, though know deep down we won't be stopping any time soon.
"Thank you," offers Elliot, holding the door open for me.
"Do you think they'll take it seriously?" I ask, once out of earshot.
Elliot shrugs. "Whether they choose to use the information is up to them. We've done our bit."
He walks me to my locker, my own personal body guard.
"Now what do we do?" I question.
He doesn't say anything, seemingly at a crossroads. Stuck. We're at that point in the investigation where no new leads are presenting themselves. Nothing substantial is coming forward.
"It's Helena, right?"
We both turn at the tame voice belonging to Francesca.
"Umm, yeah."
She smiles. "Celia told me what you did at the meeting last night. Thank you."
I falter, feeling like a fraud accepting her gratitude. I said what I said out of frustration. Not to defend Tom.
"Look, Francesca-"
"Did anyone know about you two?" asks Elliot, intervening. "Anyone who would want to expose your secret?"
She shrugs. "Anyone could've figured it out, I guess. Tom and I were always so careful but we had our slip ups, ya know? And that photo was taken months ago, which means..."
"What?" I ask.
"Whoever is doing this has been holding onto that information for a while."
Interesting. Why take a photo and wait months to use it?
"Anyway, I've gotta go. Thanks again for defending us. I appreciate it."
I smile, not entirely sure it's a believable one. Still, I try because Francesca seems like a nice girl. A nice girl who is going through a tough time.
