Fireflies: A Katie Bell Mystery (book 1) (18 page)

I
t took
Katie a second to find Tiffany once she exited the library. Her blonde friend was already at the edge of a crowd of students walking down the express walkway towards the art buildings and the school’s museum.(font changed)

For an instant Katie considered calling out to her, but instinct took over and she fought the urge. There was something … not right about how Tiffany was walking. Something off.

Katie knew it was none of her business, but after the meeting she had just had with Stacy about secret societies and a possible killer still on the loose, her sense of paranoia had certainly increased. Besides, she was curious.

Katie had made the split second decision that there was no real harm in following Tiffany. After all, aside from more studying and talking to Gideon, there was nowhere she actually had to be. Besides, wasn’t there some new exhibit up in the museum? It would serve her well to check it out.

She took off at a brisk jog to keep sight of Tiffany, though she remained back a hundred yards. Since Katie was wearing her staple green jacket, her skinniest jeans, Chucks, and her messenger bag, she was aware she stood out, but Tiffany seemed utterly oblivious to everything around her aside from whatever her destination was. The blonde teen really did seem like she was in a hurry.

T
iffany headed past
the art buildings right toward the large glass wall that was the entrance to the SCU museum. Katie ducked down and took a long drink from the water fountain in the quad in front of the museum entrance while her friend entered the museum, counting to twenty silently before following after Tiffany.

F
or a few minutes
Katie couldn’t find Tiffany, and for a moment she worried that maybe her friend had just gone straight through the building and had exited out the back.

That was until she rounded the corner and spotted Tiffany staring at a large glass statue. It was of a woman with her hands cuffed behind her back and doubled over on the ground, while a man stared down at her, a whip in his hand. The sculpture was to size, and the title in thick red block letters underneath it read MODERN SOCIETY.

Tiffany stared at the statue for a long time and Katie made her way over to the corner of the gallery room. Katie pretended to focus her attention on the still life in the gold frame in front of her, but really it was on Tiffany.

Maybe she had just finished swim earlier. Maybe she really did just like overdone bad modern art, like a guilty pleasure. Maybe Katie was just becoming far too paranoid, and should really know who her new friends were.

As all those thoughts streamed through her head, Katie saw a familiar man move up next to Tiffany, and it was like she could hear a glass smashing in her head.

He had altered his appearance since the last time Katie had seen him, but it still only took her all of five seconds before she placed who he was; the man from the night of the party. The last man Katie had seen talking to Dan Reedman. The man who had given Dan the thumb drive. The man in the North Face jacket.

He was wearing a baseball cap pushed forward and a navy blue turtle neck and dark brown dress pants, and for a moment it appeared like he was ignoring Tiffany and also just admiring the sculpture.

Katie moved down one painting along the far gallery wall, so she could get a better angle on him. When she moved it was obvious they were talking, in quiet whispers while they continued to stare straight ahead.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but whatever it was there was a lot of heat to their voices. The fragments of tone that Katie could hear sounded harsh, like Tiffany was very unhappy with the mysterious man.

Katie hesitated for a second before she risked it and moved one more painting down the wall. She was about fifty feet away from them now. If Tiffany merely turned to her left and looked over her shoulder she would spot her, no doubt about it.

Once she was closer it was very obvious that Tiffany was doing the majority of the talking, and she was upset, while the man’s response were short, single sentences and even single word responses.

Tiffany turned to her right and looked at him in disgust before she blasted past him, storming out of the gallery hall past Katie, not even noticing her. That was partly because as soon as she turned Katie ducked down and pretending to tie her shoe, obscuring her face at the same time. She froze in place until Tiffany turned the corner, and when she looked up the man was also gone.

Where?

Katie jogged to the statue and looked. The hallway went to the right, and the back entrance was at the end of the hall, and the door was closing just as she looked in that direction. Any pretense of sneaking was gone and Katie ran after him, determined to get some answers.

The two other students in the final hall looked at Katie funny as she suddenly took off in a sprint down the hall, but Katie ignored them.

She hit the exit and pushed the door open, looking right and left. Instinctively Katie reached into her messenger bag and wrapped her hand around her familiar black cylinder object. She was ready to go, ready to face the man.

Except he seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Katie paced up and down the gallery court yard, but he had just up and vanished. She could feel her heart racing. Katie had always thought seeing the man again would give her more answers, but it had only led to more questions. The bottom of her stomach seemed to have dropped into a black hole. Not only did she not know he was, but her roommate did. And he was connected to Dan Reedman’s case. To his murder. Katie was one hundred percent certain of it. Which meant … Tiffany was too. Her own roommate.

In her mind Katie played back through the events of that fateful evening, and she realized that for the period about five minutes before the murder, she had no clue where Tiffany was. Of course her memory was fuzzy, but suddenly her roommate had gone from her dear friend and occasional … bed buddy to a different list.

Tiffany was possibly involved in Dan Reedman’s murder.

K
atie was sitting
next to Stacy and across from Gideon in his apartment living room. They were all around his kitchen table, and the only thing on the sparse wooden surface was a stack of photos. Gideon was not looking at either of the women, but rather at the stack.

“You seriously want me to run this?” he asked.

“It’s the only way.”

“We’ve been over this a hundred different ways, and it really is, Gideon,” Katie added, reaching out and touching Gideon’s elbow.

“It’s stupid and dangerous. Not to mention questionable reporting. It’s a student newspaper, not a tabloid.”

Katie and Stacy exchanged a look. They had had a feeling Gideon would react this way, but they had come prepared.

“It kind of is all of those things, but you know what else it is? The right thing to do.”

He finally looked up at them. “How can you say that?”

“Because it will help catch an actual killer.”

Gideon held up his hands. “They already caught the murderer.”

Katie couldn’t help herself and rolled her eyes. “You really believe that?”

Gideon just looked back at her for a long moment and sighed. “Not even slightly.”

“Right. And here you are, sitting on a hot news story that will not only be reporting the truth, but it will put the real killer, someone who has quite possibly murdered not one but two people that we know of sweating.”

“You do realize it could also just paint big targets on our backs. After all, if there really is someone out there that’s perfectly willing to not just murder one person, but then go and kill another person and frame them for it, that’s someone who is not just dangerous, but also utterly and totally a psychopath. Someone who’s very good at it, and can easily blend in among the rest of us,” Gideon said.

Katie looked at him for a long time and smiled. “So you’re just as excited by this as I am, aren’t you?”

He sighed again. The sigh said it all. The girls had won. He would do it, even if there was still debate left for what exactly he would write, and how much he was willing to help.

It didn’t matter though. Him agreeing to do it at all was the silver bullet.

“I can’t publish anything till we get back from break,” he added.

“We know, that gives me enough time to work on another angle,” Stacy said.

“Another angle?”

Stacy stood up and squeezed Katie’s shoulder. “I’ll let Katie tell you all about it. I really need to go. I have an Econ final I need to study for. I can see myself out,” Stacy added, as she turned and headed for the front door.

Katie and Gideon waved goodbye, but remained silent until after she was out of the apartment and the door was shut. Katie’s hand was still on his elbow. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She looked at him right back, a sparkle in hers.

“So … You want me to tell me about the other angle?” he asked.

“Sure, but first I want you to put me at an angle,” she said.

Gideon didn’t say anything, but he did get up and squeeze her arm. Katie didn’t say anything else either, but she did sigh happily as he lifted her up and pushed the photos to the side, her butt resting on the kitchen table.

F
or the first
time since Katie had started high school, it was actually snowing around Christmas back in the city. She had been home since earlier the previous Saturday morning, and in some ways had already fallen back into the routine of being home.

The only thing was being actually in the house didn’t really feel like her own home it felt … different. Like a dream of her old bedroom and the house, rather than it actually being hers.

It was nice to see Arthur on a more regular basis, but the truth was he was still completely occupied with work. Still, he was in good spirits with her being home. Being able to make him dinner so that when he came home from long days at the office he could just sit down, were both satisfying for her and a silent relief for him.

It was also nice to catch up with old high school friends who were back for the holidays, though precious few of “the old guard” were actually in town. Some had opted to stay back East at their selective schools, while others were either at some other family member’s house or in a few select cases were skiing and posting an absurd amount of pictures of it on Instagram.

I
n that particular
moment Katie was enjoying a nice buzz from some of the spiked eggnog she had been drinking and was lying on her bed surfing on her laptop.

Her phone chimed and she glanced at it. Katie could feel a lump forming in her throat. Luke. She considered not looking at the message, but that lasted maybe four seconds before she was swiping right.

How is it being back?

Her thumb hovered for a second before she responded.

Good. How are you?

Pretty good. You free?

Katie considered her response for a solid thirty seconds.

Sure.

She promised herself it would just to say hi, but she felt a familiar ache when she thought about Luke. There was warmth there, familiarity. Lately, those things had been severely lacking from her life, especially with her recent revelations about Tiffany. She would just go over briefly. That was it.

1
1
:43PM

Katie rolled over and sat up, her breathing slowing down quickly. She was covered in warm slick sweat, as was Luke. He laid back with an arm underneath his head, while Katie let her feet dangle off the side of his bed. A strand of her red hair damp with moisture clung to her eyebrow and dropped over her eye, and she blew it away in an annoyed puff.

Luke reached out with his free hand and touched her bare leg.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and blinked. The room was dark, but moonlight streamed through the window above his bed and illuminated them in milky blue light.

“Hello,” Katie said as she slid out of bed, moving across his old bedroom, and in the light she looked ethereal, almost like she wasn’t even there but was rather just a figment of a dream.

She picked up her panties and slid them back on, before pulling on her shirt.

“Listen…” she started but trailed off.

Luke sat up in bed and looked at her with those big eyes of his and she shivered. It had been good, and just what she had wanted and needed that evening. Katie had wondered for a moment when they had started if she would feel guilt or weird, considering she had been with Gideon less than a week prior, but it wasn’t like that at all. It wasn’t like her and Gideon were exclusive, and it wasn’t like being with Luke was really a slip up. It was just … familiar. Familiar and comfortable.

She smirked for a second. A favorite blanket that was good at getting her off.

“I should go,” she said, moving back across his bedroom and kissing him softly.

He kissed her back and for a moment their tongues danced again, and Katie could feel herself becoming aroused all over again.

“You should stay,” he said, pulling his lips off of hers just enough so he could murmur the words.

“Can’t. Dad would ask questions and I don’t have any good answers to them.”

“He’d understand that you were over here…”

“I’ll see you later, Luke,” she said, and kissed him again, but this time on the cheek.

K
atie got
in her car and stopped for a moment, reaching into the glove box and fishing out the pack of American Spirit’s she had stuffed in the bottom. The pack was crumpled and there was only a single cigarette left. She pulled it out and reached into her bag, grabbing her lucky lighter and setting them both on top of her bag and then drove the half-mile between Luke’s house and the nearest park. She got out and inhaled the fresh late night air. Her breath steamed and she made her way to a swing set and brushed off the thin layer of snow. Katie sat down and popped the cigarette between her lips, lighting it.

She smoked silently, watching the moon as it shone brightly, a patch of clear sky between the dark and constant clouds around it. They brought a silent but consistent amount of white powder down on the city and coating it.

Katie liked the silence the light snow created. Her mind was anything but, but being out there, all alone in the black and white let her drift. In hindsight she realized she had needed that more than anything, maybe even more than the sex she had just had.

When she was done with the American Spirit, she placed it under her foot and heard the soft hiss as it went out, than took the butt and tossed it in a trash can before she got back in her car and drove back to her father’s house.