Just then Mr. Crandle walked in, the other teacher trailing behind him. I hadn't seen this guy around before and as whispers started to run rampant around the room, my heart started to pound with fear.
This was no teacher.
“Miss Brennan, this is Detective Hauer,” Mr. Crandle said. “He'd like to speak to you. Please gather your things and go with him.”
Everyone turned to gape at me as if we hadn't all known this was coming. My hands trembled as I reached for my books. I glanced at Detective Hauer, a short, stocky man in a wrinkled shirt and cotton tie who stood at the front of the room with his hands behind his back, his razor-?sharp brown eyes watching my every move.
Guilty. That was how I felt under his gaze. Guilty. But of what? Of finding a note from my ex-?boyfriend? Smack on the shackles and take me to the guillotine.
I managed to rise out of my seat without my knees knocking together too much and joined the detective.
“Hello, Reed,” he said. His voice was so deep it made my bones rumble.
“Hello.”
I even sounded guilty.
He raised a hand to usher me out of the room ahead of him.
“You can make up the quiz tomorrow, Miss Brennan,” Mr. Crandle said helpfully as I reached the door.
Right. Because that was what I was really concerned about.
94
* * *
Just tell them.
No, don't. Thomas will be so mad.
So what? You're already mad at him. Besides, it's the law. Can they arrest me for not telling?
Don't do it. His parents will be on him like peanut butter on jelly. It's a betrayal.
But didn't he betray me by breaking up with me in a note?
Just do it.
Don't.
Come on.
No.
No, no, no.
“You know, there's nothing to be nervous about, Reed,” Detective Hauer said.
I stopped chewing on the end of the hood string on my sweatshirt and sat up. “I'm not nervous.”
Yeah. That was very convincing. The high octave and the spittle were especially compelling.
95
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I'm fine.”