Page 81 of The Executioners Three
Their brakes squealed in earsplitting harmony as they slowed to a stop. They rolled the final steps to the tape. It rattled in the wind, very bright andveryinsistent that people keep out.
Freddie unzipped her jacket (all that cycling had made her hot). Then she pinned Divya with her most serious stare. No more giggling over Laina, no more Kyle or Theo or feelings of shame. What they were doing here was serious, and Freddie couldn’t in good conscience let Divya walk in there without knowing all the risks.
“Div, we could get in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”
“I know.” Divya shifted her weight.
“Like, alotof trouble,” Freddie reiterated. “Like get-arrested-and-charged-with-stuff trouble.”
“I know,” Divya repeated. She drew back her shoulders. “But I can’t let you go in those woods alone—and Iknowyou’ll go alone. Because no matter how terrifying or dangerous things are, Fred, you always jump without looking. I do love that about you, but…” Divya gave a little tremble asshe scooted her bike closer to the police tape. “These woods are wiggins central.”
“Well,” Freddie pointed out as she inched her bike after Divya, “the only way to make fear go away is to get to the bottom of it, you know? We have to face it head-on. Like a mosquito bite: the more you scratch it, the faster it heals.”
“That is not how a mosquito bite works.”
“Sure it is.” Another few inches toward the flapping tape. Freddie reached it first. Her sore left hand brushed plastic. Then in a swoop of speed—before she could lose her nerve—she dismounted from her bike, slipped under the tape, and held it high.
Divya followed two seconds later, and after furtive glances all around, the girls set off into the trees.
They were in. Freddie and Divya were nowbreaking the law. And unlike the exhilaration that had sparkled in Freddie’s veins whenever she pranked Fortin Prep, she felt only determination now. She was going to make this transgression worth it; she was going to clear her name; she was going to prove that Sheriff Bowman had it all wrong.
“So what’s the plan?” Divya’s voice was a half whisper, like she was afraid of being overheard. She even rolled her bike with extra caution.
“We’re going to find the bottle. Then we’re going to take a million photographs of it in the forest. After that, we’ll put the water bottle in a Ziploc, I’ll develop the photos, and we’ll bring it all back to Bowman.”
Divya glanced back. “Do youhavea Ziploc?”
“Always.”
“My, my, aren’t you quite the Keylime PI.”
Freddie barked a laugh—too loud, too false. “That was clever. And hey, this was the spot, wasn’t it?” She stopped walking and toed down her kickstand. “Yeah, I’m ninety-nine percent sure this was it.” She spun in a circle beside the witch hazel where only three days ago, therehadbeen a red water bottle.
“Yeah,” Divya agreed, knocking down her own kickstand. “Assuming your bike had been parked here”—she patted her handlebars—“and thatI had been dumped on my butt over there…” She skipped two steps sideways and squatted. “Yep, that definitely looks the way I remember it.”
“Alright.” Freddie rubbed her hands together; it wasreallygetting cold out. “For argument’s sake, let’s assume a psycho murderer—”
“Eep.”
“—didn’tsteal the water bottle and it simply got knocked by the wind. That means it would go…” Freddie squinted at the leaf-covered earth. Then pointed to a spot where the ground turned sharply downward.
Divya’s footsteps thudded over to Freddie’s side. Her face had settled into a familiarsomething does not add up herescrunch.
“Something does not add up here,” she said. “Like, even if the wind knocked the bottle out from under the tree, the ground is still pretty flat. It would have had to roll a full ten feet to even hit that drop-off.”
“Well,” Freddie declared, tromping ahead, “let’s assume that’s exactly what happened. If we don’t find anything at the bottom of the hill, we’ll trek back up here and head in the other direction.”
“What about the bikes?”
“Leave ’em. It’s not like there’s anywhere to hide them anyway.” Freddie reached the descent and in a very graceless—and very noisy—stumble forward, she thundered down the hill. Divya crashed a few paces behind.
By the time the ground flattened out again, both girls were red-faced, muddy-booted, and wild-haired. Even Divya’s flawless braid had not survived the clawing branches and gnarly underbrush.
“Now,” Freddie said, scrambling over fresh detritus, “let’s search. Hopefully the red of the plastic will still stand out.”
“Against all these fallen leaves that are red, you mean?”
Freddie glared. “Just look, okay?”
