Page 29 of Be A Detective, They Said. It’ll Be Fun, They Said

Chapter Ten

“Help us! Please help us!”

My eyes popped open to the tune of a child calling for help. The voice raw and filled with fear. I fought to sit up, but when I did there was nothing to see. Nothing but the cold, hard floor beneath me, damp and sticky.

My sluggish heart began to throb in my chest, but I reminded myself to remain calm. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t been scooped up and dropped in Hell before, right? Long story, but well worth remembering I’d been in this position several times.

That led to my next question? Was I in Hell? And if so, why was I in Hell? How did demons get in the middle of this? Was Neerie right when she said the Illuminati ran the school? Was the Illuminati run by demons?

Worse, was I getting ahead of myself? Was I letting all this conspiracy stuff get in my head?

So first order of business, find out where I’d landed.

“Help us! Pleeease, help us!”

Horror crept up my spine. It was hard not to panic when a child was calling for help, but I fought the temptation to give in and scream myself.

Instead, I called out, “Where are you, honey? Who are you?”

“Help! Please hurry!”

Calm. Remain calm, Wanda Jefferson. Do not freak out. But to no avail. The small voice, heart-wrenching and terrified, shredded my insides.

“I’m coming! I’ll find you!” I called back, fighting to keep my fear from seeping into my reassuring words.

And then, like a vortex, I was sucked out of wherever I was, my back pressing against a slick, cool floor.

“Mrs. Jefferson!” I heard another voice call. An adult voice. A familiar adult voice. A hand stroked my cheek. A soft hand, one that smelled of raspberries and eucalyptus. “Mrs. Jefferson, are you all right?”

“Wanda!” That adult voice I knew. Marty. It was Marty. And then Nina.

“Wanda! What the hell is going on?”

My eyes popped open to find Mrs. Goodfellow, her sweet lined face staring down at me as she feathered a caress across my cheek, while Marty and Nina dropped to my side as I lay flat out on my back.

I struggled to get up, but Marty held me in place. “Wait, let me see if you’ve hit your head, honey. Please don’t move.” She ran her fingers along my scalp, checking for abrasions.

Nina held my head, putting it in her lap. She grazed my forehead with her knuckles. “What the hell, Wanda?”

When I opened my mouth to speak, rather than words coming out of my mouth, I cried. I couldn’t stop the tears that fell down my face.

What on earth was happening to me? I felt disjointed, empty, lost.

Mrs. Goodfellow wiped at my cheeks, pulling my other hand to her cheek. “Oh, Mrs. Jefferson, what’s wrong? Tell me how I can help?”

But I couldn’t speak for the voice of that child in my head, calling for help. “I…”

Nina pulled me to her and hauled me up to my feet. “Okay, Wanda. It’s okay. Let’s get you home.”

“Wait!” I croaked, turning to Mrs. Goodfellow, one of the few teachers we hadn’t talked with yet. “I’m sure you heard what’s been going on with Mrs. Lincoln, haven’t you?”

She placed a hand on my arm, her eyes warm. “I have, dear.”

I clung to Nina and my sanity. “Did she ever say anything to you about something strange going on here at the school—or anywhere, for that matter?”

Mrs. Goodfellow looked me in the eye, her worry clear. “Mrs. Lincoln’s…how can I say this politely? An odd duck, yes? She likes things her way, and her way alone.”

“I’ll say,” Nina agreed.

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