Two hours went by, and instead of sitting in my second-period AP English course, I was wandering down our school's high-ceilinged, wooden-floored auditorium. We received a morning announcement about Tanglewood holding an assembly for Rachel Davis and that everyone needed to attend. I walked past two police officers that stood at the entrance inside as I lowered my head, refusing to look or smile at them. I felt nothing but weight inside.
Other people streamed around me, trying to either find seats or sit next to their buddies in the pews. I didn't know what to expect at this morning's assembly dedicated to Rachel. The auditorium smelled like perfume and bleach. I looked ahead to see that the edge of the stage was covered with flowers that some people brought and placed, followed by stuffed animals and vigil candles that weren't lit. There was a huge photograph of Rachel smiling so brightly at the camera projected for all of us to see. It hit me all over again that we were sitting here because she was dead.
I listened for the footsteps and voices of the people down the aisle. Dizzily, I slid into a pew. "You don't look too good. Drop your head down and breathe slowly through your mouth," a deep, familiar voice said.
I turned my head to see that it was Charles Hamiliton. He was still clad in his black bomber jacket and dark wash jeans from earlier on the news. His dark hair looked fresh as he grinned at me.
"Oh, hey, Charlie," I mumbled.
"How are you feeling with all of this going on?" He softly asked.
I shrugged my shoulders before sighing. "Not too good. You?"
Just silence. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. Charles was fidgeting with his jacket's zipper as some girl that sat on the other side of him remained very still and stared ahead. I knew Charles was Tre's best friend, and they played football together. I also remembered that he was at Mila's Halloween party as Captain America, but there was something off about him that I couldn't exactly put my finger on for whatever reason. The way he sounded so monotonously and nervously fumbling just didn't seem right.
"Poor Ginger Spice," He then murmered. "She died so young."
We sat quietly for a few minutes. I tried to wrack my brain for something to say to him, but my ears clogged with the sudden sound of walkie-talkies and keys jiggling.
I twisted my upper body around to scan the crowd for someone I knew, and my eyes landed on Detective Crest, who was firmly standing at the very back as some police officers filled the last two rows. His cold blue eyes did a full inspection. This Halloween party incident must be a serious and deadly situation for him.
He then glared heavily at me; his thin mouth in a demanding, straight line. I quickly looked away in complete hesitation.
Good God.
Terror has now overfilled my body. What could he possibly know?
***
I couldn't focus or eat throughout my day at school. Police officers lingered around Tanglewood High with stern looks on their faces. I entered my math class, which was my last period for the day, and sat at the back, feeling so many eyes on me. Even though Rachel was no longer alive to make me feel bad about myself, which was a major relief. I still felt terrified everywhere I went in school.
After the seventh bell finished ringing, the speaker cracked in preparation for another announcement for the day, but it never came on. Mr. Florence cleared his throat and stood at the front. "I just want to say I'm deeply sorry that one of your classmates, Rachel Davis, passed away over the weekend. Not only was she a classmate, but she was also a student and a great friend to most of you. This isn't an official announcement that needed to be made through administration, but this is simply from the heart."
Someone in my class raised his hand at the front. A scrawny boy with dark hair and huge, wide-framed glasses asked, "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Florence, do you know the reason she died? I mean, she couldn't just...drown."
Mr. Florence heavily sighed. "Sorry, Tim, that's not my place to tell you all that, but I'm pretty sure some of you will get a chance to speak to the police about it. I know some of you have already spoken to them. I could only imagine what losing someone could be like."
Tim nodded as someone easily choked out a sob. Half of the class probably did speak to Detective Crest and the police. All day, throughout my classes, I have seen students get called into the office to speak to the them, only to come back with tear-stained faces and dread. I sank in my seat, wandering who would be asked in for an interview over a dead girl.
Mr. Florence then said. "There will be a counselor who specializes in helping people deal with grief. She's in the office all week if one of you needs some support or someone to talk to about this. Just understand, we're all here for one another."
The desk phone then suddenly rang as Mr. Florence paused to pick up the receiver. I watched as he nodded and glared at me. I shook my head and instantly thought they wanted to talk to me next about what really happened to Rachel. Instead, he proceeded to teach his class for the remainder of time until the bell rang.
We all got up to leave, but Mr. Florence called my name before I could pick up my bookbag. "Sunny, can you stay back for a minute?"
I quietly nodded and grabbed my bag. Mr. Florence looked at a sheet of paper on his desk as I slowly approached it. "Principal Hyde wanted me to let you know that Detective Crest wants to speak with you tomorrow. He informed me that you're scheduled for an interview at eleven o'clock in the conference room."
Detective Crest was trickling down the list, and I was very familiar with him by now. I had spent over a month trying to unravel the truth about that strange videotape, just to be here and face the aftermath of Rachel Davis's death.
"Okay..." I swallowed.
It was going to be bad, whatever it was. I could feel it in my bones.
I needed to prepare myself for what I was going to say and go about this, although I didn't have anything to do with Rachel's death. Maybe this would be the chance to learn what truly happened.
***
The next morning, I walked into Principal Hyde's office. One of his administrators pointed me to the conference room that already had Detective Crest, Principal Hyde, and the redheaded police officer I always see at the station. My heart pounded like never before, as if I hadn't been through this enough. I took the last empty chair at the table.
"Good morning, Sunny." Principal Hyde spoke and joined the table. My throat went dry as the desert as all of their eyes were on me. "I would like to introduce you to Detective Michael Crest and his fellow officer, Tyler Fairbanks. They are with the Tanglewood Police Department. They are here to ask you some questions about what happened on Saturday night or what you possibly witnessed."
Detective Crest folded his hands in front of him and glanced at Hyde before staring hard at me once again. "We have met before. Nice to meet you again, Sunny." I swallowed a huge, uncomfortable lump in my throat. He was an older man who was slightly bald but intimidating enough to crack anyone. There was no reason for me to be this nervous. I was going to tell them the truth—that I was innocent through all of this. "This shouldn't take more than thirty minutes, but after speaking with my team and some of your classmates, we wanted to take a very closer look at Rachel's death. The autospy results came back yesterday morning, and well, let's say things are not looking too good."
"Okay," I softly said, feeling the insides of my stomach churning.
Detective Crest then revealed the truth I had been waiting for. "The results show that Rachel died from a dose of battery acid ingested in her bloodstream seconds before her death. We found this a bit odd because the chemical substance was mixed with her cherry cocktail. We assumed she drank battery acid just before her body collapsed into the pool; is that true?"
I nodded, not believing what he told me. "Yes, sir. That's where everyone at the party found her."
But he continued. "The red cup we found in the pool during the scene had been tested in the lab with droplets of battery acid inside, so it's obvious Rachel died from alcohol poisoning. What we're trying to figure out now is who slipped battery acid into her drink at the party. This is not either an accident or a suicide. We're investigating a murder."
I was incredibly speechless right now. Detective Crest's blue eyes met mine as I dropped my head. I could feel a frown creasing on my face.
"Sunny, do you remember who Rachel last spoke to or had her drink around at the party?" I heard Principal Hyde prompted. "Anything that you tell us for this case could be helpful."
"I don't know who. I didn't pay attention," I truthfully said.
"Please lift your head up and look at us." Detective Crest firmly ordered as if he wasn't messing around this time. I did so to see him hovering his black pen over a blank yellow notepad. "Tell us what happened from your side of the story. Did you interact with Rachel at the party?"
I scratched the standing hairs at the back of my neck. "The last time I saw her was at the party. She threw a drink at me, and after that, she walked away."
"Do you know why she threw a drink at you?" Crest pressed. "Did it contain battery acid by any chance?"
Memories from that horrible night rushed back. Should I tell him the real reason why she threw the drink at me? Hell, I didn't even know why she did that, but instead I gave him a one-sided answer. "To be honest, Rachel wasn't the nicest person when she was alive. She threw her drink at me out of spite, and no, I didn't think it had battery acid in it then."
"Then afterwards, she walked away. Did she say anything to you? If so, what did she say?"
"Yes, she called me a whore in front of everyone who saw it. I then went to the bathroom and cried because I was so embarrassed that she did that."
"So, you haven't seen her go anywhere else?"
"No," I answered. "That was the last time I ever talked to or saw her. Next thing I knew, she was found dead in the pool when I came out of the bathroom," I added, leaving out the part about how I had a steamy situation with Tre, her ex-boyfriend.
Detective Crest turned to me. "So it was after she threw the drink at you that someone poisoned her."
"I believe so." I watched him scribble something down in his notepad. He didn't say anything else, and I grew horrified.
Detective Crest looked at me and asked, "Is there anything else you want to tell us from that night? Because it looks like we have so many versions and stories of what happened, there's one thing for certain is that we have a killer on the loose. And that's a dangerous to deal with."
I agreed with what Crest was saying, and that made me even more scared for my existence.
"Our goal is to hurry up and catch this Tanglewood killer before it's too late, so I would ask you again. Do you have anything you would like to inform us about before we dismiss you?"
I shook my head. "No, sir."
But there was something more I wanted to tell him. Two days before Rachel died, she threatened to kill me, and for this to be the end result, it was horrifying enough that she died from alcohol poisoning for whatever solid reason it could be.
The more horrifying part was that there was a killer near me, ready to make anyone silent.