Page 78 of The Executioners Three
“No!”Freddie was practically shouting now. None of this made any sense, and shame welled behind her eyeballs.
Shame, outrage, and something prickly she didn’t like.
“Ask Divya! She was with me, Sheriff!”
Bowman sighed again, and in an instant, her anger withered into something more like disgust. “Comeon,Gellar. Enough of this. Don’t throw your best friend under the bus.”
“But Divya saw the bottle too! Shedid.”
“No, she didn’t.” Bowman’s thumb tapped against her thigh. “I already spoke to her, and unlike you, she told me straight: she did not see a thing.”
Freddie’s breath cut off. She rocked back, her eyelids screwing shut. Thiscouldn’t be happening. Divya wouldn’t betray her like that. No,no. Freddie dug her knuckles into her eyes and tried to think back to the woods. To what she’d seen and where the bike had been parked and where Divya had been standing…
“Oh no,” she breathed, horror gathering in her belly. It was 100 percent possible that Divya hadn’t seen anything. And Divya couldn’t lie—Freddieknewthat and couldn’t blame her for it.
“That’s right.” Bowman shook her head. “Look, Gellar, you know how much I care about you—and how much I cared about your father. But I can’t keep looking the other way when you make trouble. This time, you’ve gone too far.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Freddie tried to say, but Bowman wasn’t listening.
“The worst is,” she went on, thumb tapping harder and harder by the second, “I can’t tell if you’re really just being a silly kid or if you’re actually turning into Frank. Either way, there have to be consequences.”
“Sheriff,” Freddie begged, hands rising. “I didn’tdoanything. I swear. I didn’t prank you and I’m not… I’m not my dad. There really was a water bottle in the woods, Sheriff. I swear to you. On my life, on my mom’s life—on Divya’s! And there really were photos on Xena. And,” she added, words spewing out now, “there were photos of Kyle Friedman’s basement and our prank at the mausoleum. Did you find any of those? If they weren’t on there, then it wasn’t my film!”
“Please stop, Gellar.”
“But I mean it, Sheriff! Iswear! Someone must have changed the film!”
Bowman wagged her head, disbelieving and deeply let down. “Sure they did. Someone broke into my police station and switched out the film. Do you even hear yourself? You sound worse than Frank did.”
There was that reference to her dad again, and Freddie wanted to scream. Obviously she already knew Frank Carter had been tough to work with and a terrible boss. That he hadn’t known when to let things go, and it had ruined his relationships with the people around him. But Freddie felt like there was other critical context she was missing here, all thanks to thestupidunspoken rule she suddenly wished she’d never adhered to.
“Get to school,” Bowman said. She planted her hands on her hips. “Anddo not get in the way again, Gellar. We have two feds in town now, and they won’t be as lenient as I am. Do you understand?”
Oh, Freddie understood. Loud and clear. She was in deep trouble, and there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it.
“Yes, ma’am,” Freddie forced out, staring hard at the pavement.Tamp down thoughts. Tamp down feelings. Focus on the task at hand.“I understand, Sheriff.” Then, without another word, Freddie pushed past Bowman and strode toward the school’s front door. As she walked, a fledgling plan unfurled. She didn’t need her gut to recognize a murderer behind the scenes, covering up their crimes.
A flesh-and-bloodserial killer,who had been operating for over two decades. Who was either inspired byThe Curse of Allard Fortinor trying to re-create it. And since Freddie was the only person around who seemed to realize or care about what was going on, then it fell to her to save the day.
The truth was out there, and she was damned well going to find it.
18
Freddie did not go back to school.
Oh, she walked in so Bowman would see her appearing to follow the rules, but as soon as Freddie was inside, she ducked into a bathroom and counted off a full five minutes before slinking back to the main entrance.
She didn’t make it more than ten feet into the autumn cold before a voice called, “Wait!”
Divya.
Freddie skidded around—just in time to be enveloped by Divya’s puffer jacket arms. “You must hate me—”
“I would never hate you.”
“—but Ihadto be honest with Bowman, Freddie, and I didn’t see the bottle.” Divya was squeezing Freddie so tightly Freddie couldn’t suck in air.
But she also loved the ferocity of this BFF hug, so oxygen could wait a little longer.
