Page 8 of The Executioners Three
“You meanyou’reusing me.”
“Never.” Scowl. “Second of all, having access to the archives via yourmomdoesn’t qualify you to investigate murders.”
“Ha!” Freddie cried. “So youdothink it was a murder!”
“Silence.” Divya’s eyes narrowed in a way that spoke of bodily harm in Freddie’s future.
Fortunately Freddie was saved the indignity of not getting in the last word by an explosion of flapping wings. Then a shadow stretched over Freddie and Divya. They lurched their faces upward, to where…
Freddie gasped.
Birds. Hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, covered the sky like a thundercloud. Freddie huddled toward Divya, who huddled toward her, and they both took shelter beneath the umbrella.
At least until muddy water sprayed upward in a geyser, drenching Freddie’s entire body. She shrieked, Divya yelped. Then the crows were past and a black Jeep Cherokee was skidding to a stop on the road.
“Jerk!”Divya bellowed, launching herself at the Jeep.“Giant jerkity jerk!”
A door slammed and a voice called out, “Are you okay?” A boy scrambled around the back of the Jeep. “Crap, I am so sorry! My bad, my bad, are you okay?”
“No,” Divya snarled. “You almost killed us.”
Freddie grabbed for her best friend. “That’s Kyle Friedman,” she hissed.
“I’m aware.” Divya lifted her voice again. “You should watch the freaking road. My friend here is soaked—” She broke off with a yelp as Freddie stabbed Divya’s wrist with her nails.
Kyle Friedman was the coolest guy in school, and he had been ever since sixth grade when he’d shown up at school with the wordsSurf’s Upmonogrammed onto his L.L. Bean backpack. He progressed to thehottestguy at school two years later, when he hit puberty and his jawline came in.
“I’m so sorry,” Kyle said again, and Freddie couldn’t help but notice how well the slightly panicked and disheveled look worked for him. His white button-up was turning dark with the rain, and his brown curls looked shower fresh, while pink flagged on his summer-tanned cheeks. “I didn’t mean to splash you like that.”
“It’s fine,” Freddie said, surprised by the strange syrup layer on her voice.
“No, it isn’t.” Divya gaped at Freddie. “These jeans are new, and your sweater is drenched.”
Kyle flinched. “I really am sorry.” Then his eyebrows drew together. “Wait… you’re Freddie Gellar.”
Freddie nodded mutely. Kyle Friedman had said her name. She didn’t think he had ever said her name despite three plus years in the same homeroom.
It was glorious.
Then it became even more glorious when he added, “Awesome! I was looking for you.”
I was looking for you too,she thought.All my life.She sent a silent thank-you to Lance Bass in her pocket.
“Laina told me you lived on this street, but I didn’t know which house.”
“Laina?” Divya repeated, anger giving way to shock. “As in Laina Steward?”
Kyle beamed. “Exactly. I’m supposed to pick you up.”
“Pick who up?” This was Divya again because Freddie had lost all ability to speak. Kyle was justsopretty with his green eyes, golden tan, and floppy dark hair. Part surfer, part prep, part athlete, andallperfection.
“I’m supposed to pick up Freddie,” he said. “And take her to the Quick-Bis.” He paused and wet his lips, as if realizing this sounded very strange. “I mean, you don’t have to come… Or you both could come, if you wanted.” He glanced between them.
“We will definitely come,” Freddie breathed at the same instant Divya barked, “Divya. My name is Divya.”
“And his name is Kyle.” Freddie grabbed Divya’s bicep in a death grip. “Can we please get in the car now?”
Divya glared. “What about your bike?”
