Chapter 5
A knock at the front door startled Rick out of his usual school-morning routine.
He was trying to put Dani’s hair into two ponytails but froze at the noise, unsure what to do.
He sucked at double ponies. He could manage the one ponytail.
He could do braids. But for some reason, getting two even ponytails eluded him, and of course that was what Dani always wanted.
Today he’d done a decent job separating them into equal halves—Dani was holding one half and he had the other.
He didn’t want to abandon his job at this critical stage, but the knock came again, louder this time, and Rick worried that his mom would be roused from her dead, sorely needed sleep.
He handed the other bundle of hair to Dani.
“Hey!” she shouted, indignant.
“Hush, Dani. I’ve got to get the door.”
“We’re going to be late—”
“I said hush.” They were already late. Didn’t matter.
People didn’t pound on the door this early in the morning unless something terrible had happened.
Maybe they’d finally found his dad. Or someone was dead.
Or maybe…The list of awful possibilities was so long that Rick’s brain gave up on listing them and decided its time would be better spent elsewhere.
Rick grabbed the doorknob, then stopped short of actually turning it. The last few weeks had set him on edge, making him release the handle and peer through the peephole.
No one was there.
He swallowed, adrenaline suddenly sluicing through his veins. Someone had knocked—he knew he hadn’t imagined it. Rick stepped quietly to the side and twitched back the drapes covering the nearby window. The front porch sat empty.
There were a lot of ways to avoid a peephole.
Dani suddenly shot by him, one hand still holding part of her hair, the other reaching for the doorknob before he could even hiss out her name.
She swung the door open, and Rick’s adrenaline shifted to pure fear. He felt like the Jell-O Dani had once accidentally left by the space heater. Jiggly and melty.
Dani frowned at the empty porch before turning her confused expression on him.
Rick stepped forward, herding her out of the way.
The door was already open, so he might as well get a better look, but he didn’t need his little sister standing there like a big target while he did.
He peered out at the weedy front yard, the still, dark street.
Nothing.
“What’s that?” Dani asked, pointing at the porch.
A plain envelope sat on the thin, faded front mat.
Rick picked it up and flipped it over. Blank.
With one finger, he sliced it open, earning himself a paper cut.
Blood beaded on his skin, dripping onto the white envelope and blossoming like a flower.
He stuck the finger in his mouth without thinking as Dani tried to snatch the envelope away.
“Hands off, you little goblin.” He held it out of reach as he opened it.
Inside was a printout of the front page of the local newspaper, the headline Local Man Found Dead blaring at him from the top of the single sheet of paper.
Underneath was a grainy photo of a car being pulled out of the water by the police.
Rick skimmed the article, stopping when he hit the name Edwin Stephens.
Mr. Stephens. His school counselor was dead. Worm food. A fish feast.
He broke into a sweat, nausea rolling through him, and for a second, Rick wondered if he was going to have to run over to the side of the porch and throw up the cup of coffee he had for breakfast.
“Will you be next?” Dani asked.
Rick almost dropped the note. “What?”
She pointed at back of the sheet. “That’s what it says on this side. ‘Will you be next?’ ”
He flipped it over and read the message spelled out in blocky red letters. Underneath it, someone had pasted several sets of eyes cut out from magazines. He stared back at all of those eyes, fear freezing him to the spot. He swallowed hard, trying to get the metallic taste in his mouth to go away.
“Rick?” Dani’s eyes were as big as golf balls. She’d let go of her hair, both sides now dangling straight by her pale face. “Are you in trouble?”
He tried smiling at her, but it felt weird, so he quit halfway through. Dani wouldn’t buy it, anyway.
“I don’t know,” Rick said, and he meant it.
He hadn’t the faintest clue what was going on, but he did know he didn’t want it anywhere near his sister.
He shook himself. “But you will be if we don’t get you to school.
” He tucked the article into the envelope and shoved it into his back pocket before nudging her into the house.
He suddenly felt like his feet were made of bricks.
“Grab the hairbrush. We only have time for the one pony today.”
“Okay,” Dani said quietly. She didn’t argue, grabbing the brush and standing in front of him for a second before hurling herself into his gut. She wrapped her arms tight around him. “I’m scared.”
Rick tried to never lie to his sister, so he didn’t tell her there was nothing to be scared of. He didn’t tell her he wasn’t scared. All he could do was hug her. He squeezed her tight and let her go. “C’mon. Let’s get you ready.”
She handed him the brush. Once her hair was done and her jacket on, he loaded her into the Beast. He would drop her off and head straight to the Lopez house, going the speed limit the entire way.
The very last thing Rick wanted right now was to get pulled over. It felt like the longest ten minutes of his life.
—
“I’m not sure you two should go to school today,” Mrs. Lopez said as she examined the clipping. It was now in a ziplock bag along with the envelope, something she’d insisted on doing before she’d even touched it. “This is clearly a threat.”
Martina crossed her arms and jutted out her chin. “Or someone is being a dick. This could still be a prank—a gross, nasty one, but a prank.”
Mrs. Lopez gave her daughter a look. “I can tell you, with all of the years, experience, and education at my back, that it is not.”
Mr. Lopez cleared his throat. “Someone put Mr. Stephens’s car into the lake.”
Martina didn’t back down. “Or he intentionally drove himself into the water, or he had an accident and someone saw it and is taking advantage. Either way, whoever sent Rick that note will be watching him, watching us.”
Mrs. Lopez opened her mouth. Then shut it.
Mr. Lopez tapped her elbow and handed her a cup of coffee. She took it with an expression that was one part grateful (for the coffee) and one part exasperated (for her daughter and Rick).
Seeing her mom waver, Martina pressed her case. “We won’t be stupid, Mom, but for now I think we’ll be safer at school. I promise we won’t go anywhere alone.”
“Compromise,” Mr. Lopez said. “You two go to school. Keep your phones handy at all times. Anything—and I mean anything—frightens you or makes you nervous, send us a message, and I’ll come get you.
” He leaned toward Rick. “And we’re letting your mom know.
” He held up a hand before Rick could argue, his voice gentle but unmovable.
“Uh-uh. This came to her front door, mijo. To her home. For her children. She needs to know.”
“Okay,” Rick said, his shoulders slumping. “But try to give her a few hours’ sleep first.”
Mr. Lopez made a face that told Rick he was going to argue with him.
“She won’t be able to go back to sleep after,” Rick said stubbornly. “We’ve told an adult, and she won’t be able to do anything about it anyway.”
“I’m not going to wait very long,” Mr. Lopez said before placing one solid hand on Rick’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “You’re good at taking care of your family, Rick. You should be proud of how you’ve stepped up after…Well, after. But she’s the parent, mijo, not you.”
Martina grabbed his sleeve and tugged. The expression on her face told him plainly this was the best they were going to get and he better take the compromise. They both muttered their acceptance of all this and left as quickly as they could.
—
Everyone was talking about Mr. Stephens at school. His car. Where it was found. Rick and Martina heard fifteen versions of the story, all of them wildly different, before they’d even hit first period.
“I heard his car was full of pills and he was headed for the border—”
“What border? Canada? Don’t be stupid. There was someone with him, somebody’s wife, and they were on their way—”
“He was drunk. Jen from my world history class said—”
Rick wished he’d brought earplugs. After the note…he just didn’t want to hear any of it. He also didn’t think any of it was truth. Just gleefully morbid gossip masquerading as concern, and it made him a little queasy.
It made Martina irritated. She kept muttering, “Fucking vultures,” as they made their way to their first class.
By the time Rick made it to PE, he was actually happy about it.
The teacher had them out on the track running laps, which meant Rick didn’t have to listen to anybody talking.
Rain drizzled down on him as he jogged around in circles, the red rubberlike material of the track giving each step a little bounce.
The field was surrounded by tall trees, creating a wall of green, making everything seem far away.
It would have been almost enjoyable if he wasn’t at school and he was with people he actually liked.
At least he was almost alone. Everyone was giving him a wide berth, like he was in his own poisonous bubble. Or like the target painted on his back might be contagious.
Except for Paxton, who wouldn’t leave him alone.
“How did you get his car in the lake?” Paxton asked, his tone begrudgingly impressed. “Honestly didn’t think you had it in you, Hicks.”
Rick shot him a look. “Do you actually think I did it? That I, what, killed Mr. Stephens and dumped him in a lake?”
Paxton shrugged. “Either that or you found him dead and saw an opportunity to pull your little yearbook prank. I don’t really care. I just want the story.”