Page 65 of The Writer

“Everything I write auto-saves to the drive, and we all have access,” I say. “So, even if one of us isn’t responsible, it’s someone who has access to the drive.”

“No one even knows the password to my computer,” April says.

“Same here,” says Danielle.

“I use the drive on campus,” Victoria says. “That’s how I share our stories with students.”

“What do you mean?” April asks, confused.

“Sometimes I use our stories in my creative writing classes,” Victoria says. There’s a nervous quavering in her voice, as though she fears she’s overstepped. “It’s only for learning purposes.”

“You never told us that,” I say, even though I’d already learned as much from Marley.

“It’s important for my students to be exposed to new, fresh stories,” Victoria says.

“She only uses them as a learning tool,” Marley says, jumping to her teacher’s defense. “Promise.”

“Didn’t you think to ask us first?” Danielle asks, her voice as bitter as the rest of ours.

“I should have asked permission first.” Victoria tips her chin, trying to refocus the conversation to the problem at hand. “Regardless, my students don’t have direct access to our drive, but it’s possible someone could have logged into my computer on campus and seen them.”

“Whoever is behind this is doing a lot more than just reading your stories,” Marley says. “They’re acting them out.”

“Let’s regroup, go over everything we know,” Victoria says. “Treat this like we would one of our crime novels.”

“There’s been two murders,” Danielle says. “A woman died, like Becca’sThe Mistakestory. And a man was killed at Banyon’s Bridge.”

“Just like another one of Becca’s stories,” April says, almost under her breath.

The hairs on my arms stand at attention, as though they can feel the stares of everyone around me. It makes sense the police wouldn’t mention the other two incidents—my slashed tires and the hit-and-run, which were based on stories written by others. Both of those crimes are minor compared to the recent murders; however, it makes it look like someone is only re-enacting my stories, making me the most suspicious.

“But why?” Marley says, her question cutting the tension between us. “And why now?”

“Two murders in the past couple of weeks,” April says.

“That we know of,” I add.

Marley, sitting beside Victoria, catches my eye again. She shakes her head. I just now realize that we’ve not even mentioned her theory, that someone in the group has been actively murdering people since before I was even a member. It’s almost like I can read her mind. We can only reveal a little information at a time, as the likelihood that one of the women sitting beside me is the actual murderer is still high.

“I think we all need to stay alert,” Victoria says. “Either someone is trying to scare us, or even worse, they’re threatening us.”

“That’s exactly what they’re doing,” Marley says, and I notice she carefully inspects each woman at the table.

“I don’t think we should read any stories tonight,” Danielle says. “It’s probably safer that way. In fact, maybe we shouldn’t meet until this has all been sorted.”

“Good idea,” April says.

“Before we go, I did have some news I wanted to share,” I say. “It might lighten the mood a bit.”

“Please,” Victoria says. “Go ahead.”

“I received a full manuscript request from an agent,” I say, carefully. “It seems small compared to everything else that’s happening, but I thought you’d all want to know.”

Victoria smiles. April’s eyes go wide. Danielle places her hands in front of her chest, like she’s in prayer. Outwardly, all their reactions are complimentary, but I watch them each closely; one of them must have hacked into my email to send those messages. One of them must know why this manuscript request is nothing to celebrate.

“That is great news,” Victoria says. “ForNight Beat?”

I nod, but remain quiet, still watching each of them.

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