Blood on My Hands

did and, except for work, having the best summer of my life. And while I missed Slade, I also felt strangely liberated—free to do whatever I chose on my days and nights off, not having to feel responsible for propping him up when he sank into one of his moods.
    Then, all of a sudden, it got quiet. I sent Katherine a text and got no reply. I sent an e-mail: same thing. I assumed she was on vacation.
    One afternoon Mia came into the Baskin-Robbins. “So I hear you’re all going to Zelda’s beach house for the weekend,” she said while I scooped out a double mint Oreo cone for her.
    I managed to catch myself before blurting out that I didn’t know what she was talking about. Mia studied me. “You don’t want to talk about it because you don’t want to make me feel bad, right? But it’s okay. Maybe I don’t care anymore.”
    “Really?” I asked as I handed her the cone. It was hard to imagine her changing so dramatically.
    Mia leaned closer to the ice-cream case and lowered her voice. “Well, maybe I do, but I’m not going to act like I do anymore. I think if you act like you don’t care, like Zelda and Jodie, Katherine respects you more.”
    I knew that worked for Zelda and Jodie, but I wasn’t so sure it would work for Mia.
    “Besides,” she went on with a smile, “guess what? I’ve discovered there’s actually life outside Soundview High.”
    I grinned. But as soon as she left, I called Jodie and asked if Katherine was away.
    “No,” she answered.
    An awkward silence followed. I was suddenly filled with uncertainty. Finally I said, “I’ve e-mailed and texted and she hasn’t answered.”
    “Oh, yeah,” Jodie said. “Well … you know.”
    “Sorry?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.
    “She wanted you to do something and you didn’t do it.”
    Even then it took a moment for me to realize what Jodie was talking about. I was stunned. All I could say was “Why is it so important to her?”
    “You’re asking me?” Jodie laughed. “Who knows? For all I know, maybe she wants you for herself.”

Chapter 27
    Tuesday 6:08 A.M.
    “I CAN HELP you get what you want.”
    “But there’s a catch, right? Something I’ll have to do for you?”
    “Of course.”
    “So what is it?”
    “When the time is right, I’ll let you know.”
    I wake to a roar in my ears and sit up, disoriented. It sounds like a jet engine. The air in the tree house is heavy with moisture, and here and there water drips in through the slats of the roof. A downpour thunders from above. I check my cell phone for the time—just after six in the morning—and debate whether to call Slade, who is a late sleeper. Giving in to urgency, I call, knowing that it will surely wake him.
    “Hello?” He picks up right away.
    “You’re up!”
    “Haven’t been getting much sleep lately. What’s going on? Where are you? I thought you were worried the police were tracing your calls.”
    “Jerry fixed it so they can’t trace me.”
    “Jerry?”
    “Sebastian’s old friend. I’ve told you about him. Crazy reclusive tech whiz?”
    “Oh, yeah. So where are you? Can I see you? There’s something I want to tell you.”
    “Uh …” I’m about to tell him where I am when I catch myself. What if the police are listening to his phone … or sitting there in the room with him, threatening to arrest him if he doesn’t help them? “Can’t you tell me over the phone?”
    “I … No, I’ve been thinking, Cal, and this is something I have to tell you in person.”
    I feel myself fill with apprehension. “Why? What is it?”
    “It’s better if it’s face-to-face.”
    I can’t imagine why he can’t tell me over the phone. It doesn’t feel right. “Slade, it would be better if you just tell me now.”
    “Come on, Cal, can’t you just tell me where you are? I can probably be there in five minutes. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”
    After everything that’s happened, I can’t help feeling suspicious and cautious. I want to trust him, but some sixth sense is sending me warning signals. They might be about him, or they might be about something else. I only know I have to be extra careful. Paranoid, just like he said. “Slade, it’s better if you tell me over the phone. Really, it’s okay. No one’s listening.”
    “I know no one’s listening,” he snaps, suddenly becoming angry. “Why can’t you just cooperate for once? Why do you always have to have everything your way?”
    “Slade,