Page 62 of What Happened on Roslyn Street?
My pulse races, and finally, I summon the strength to open the door. To my relief, it’s not locked from the inside.
“Don’t come near me!” I screech, hoping someone else will hear. “I have a stake!”
“I’m not a”—his words are muffled as I slam the car door—“vampire!”
He’s out of the car in a second. Caldwell is fast enough that hecouldpass as a vampire after all. He reaches for my hand.
I expect a harsh touch, but it doesn’t come. He’s gentle. It’s easy to pull away and move faster.
“Tobey!” he says, loud enough that someone may overhear. “I’m not the killer, and I know what you’re doing. I knew all along! I’m here to investigate, too.”
He knows I’m investigating?
It gives me pause, coming to a halt. My eyes are glued to the Strode crest on the nearest building. I shouldn’t believe him. I can’t afford to believe him, but…
Any strange thing I’ve found about Caldwell can beexplained by his investigation—from his watch being on the scene before anyone else was there…
And his interest in me.
How could I have been wrong about so many things?
“I’m a psychic witch.” He’s standing behind me, so close I can feel his breath on my neck. “I knew this school was holding secrets, and I knew I had to be the one to stop it. That’s why I’m here, and… my visions led me to you, Tobey.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you sure you want to bringhimto our spot?” Margaux’s words are clipped short.
Nothing in my life will ever be ordinary now that I found Strode, but things between Margaux and I finally feel like they are—or at least on the way to a new normal. As irritated as she is with me, I can’t remember the last time we were this close. We walk arm-in-arm, heading to our favorite café. A third party is joining us now, and it’s not the same as the one before…
It's Caldwell.
After weeks of thinking he was the one to kill my friend, I’ve decided Ihaveto trust him. If he’s what he says he is, he’s too powerful to push away. I spent too long chasing down the wrong person, and now we may be able tofinallyfind a real lead.
“He’s going to help us,” I say, not for the first time.
“One day ago, he was a murderer,” Margaux says. “Now, because he claims he’s not, you’re inviting him to breakfast. I feel like I missed a million steps, and you walked me right into hell.”
“You told me to kiss him! I thought this was a nice, happy medium.”
“You’re going to kiss him later.” She holds her head higher. “I can tell. You’re obvious. I’ve already lost you—to a man namedCaldwell.”
“I’m only obvious to you.” I shake my head, doing away with thoughts of kissing Caldwell—and everything that could come after. “The point is, you asked me to find proof of him being the murderer. I didn’t find any, and if there’s no proof…”
“Right. Then it can’t be him?” She barks out a laugh. “You know what, Tobey? I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You’ve spentdaystrying to convince me it isn’t him!”
Of course, now that I’ve changed my mind, she has as well. I’m fully expecting Margaux to judge both Caldwell and the situation. It’s who she is, and it’s helpful… as I can no longer do the judging.
Margaux is right about some things. I find myselfhopinghe’s not the killer and unsure what to do with myself if he is. I won’t let my thoughts—or feelings—go further than that. I feel bad for him, and I like him. That’s all it is.
But we step into the café, and as soon as I spot him, butterflies take flight in my stomach. My heart races for reasons that have little to do with fear.
I never wanted to be one of those losers obsessing over a killer. Hecan’tbe the killer.
“See,” Margaux whispers, leaning in close. “You’re looking at him like he hung the stars. All he did was maybenotkill someone. That’s not exactly an act of kindness.”
“Margaux…”
