Page 18 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

I make my way to where Noah and Jacey are digging through equipment in the large storage container. I hover behind them, trying to spot a sleeping bag.

“Why do we need this stuff, again?” he asks. “Pretty sure a thick jacket and snacks will do the trick for a campout.”

“It’s not a campout.” Jacey kneels, withdrawing some sort of metal contraption and adding it to the pile behind her. “Didn’t you learn anything on the last three trips? Just behave, and I’ll give you sour gummies.” She grabs a cord attached to a couple of cylindrical objects and something that looks like a razor blade.

“What’s all that?” I ask, moving alongside her.

She glances over at me like I’m a fly and she can’t fathom how I learned to speak.

“It’s a ferro rod.” Noah points at the cylindrical object, then the metal one. “And that’s the striker. For starting fires.” He sticks his tongue out at Jacey. “See, Captain Alpine? I did learn a thing or two.”

“Literally two things,” she mutters.

“Why don’t we just bring a lighter?” I ask.

“What are you doing in this club, Savannah?” Jacey asks, going back to rifling through the box. In her gray fleece pullover, black nylon cargo pants, and hiking shoes, it’s obvious she’s a seasoned pro. Not like Noah and me, who are wearing Nikes and jeans.

“I came to bask in your delightful presence.”

“I’m serious.” She stands up; at a mere five foot five, she still towers over me. “It was bad enough that your boyfriend stuck around, but now I have to look at you too?”

“What is it with you not wanting anyone else to join your damn club?”

She flinches. “I told you, I didn’t threaten Piper.”

“Yeah, well, someone here did.” Empty-handed, I march back toward Grant and spot Alexandra along the wall, staring at me. She wrenches her eyes away and messes with the zipper on her purple vest, but it’s too late. This is the third time I’ve caught her watching me this week.

I haven’t been able to prove she’sAlex, not by any discreet means. Maybe it’s time to be indiscreet.

“Hey, Alexandra,” I say, hurrying over to her. “Can I speak to you real quick?”

She pauses, her hand still stuffed inside a pouch of her pack. Then she nods. “Sure.” After zipping up the pack, she rests it against the wall.

I stride to the door, my foot tapping as I wait for her to follow. When she reaches me, confusion etched in her forehead, I check the hall before whispering, “Did you speak to my sister the day she fell?”

The creases above her brows deepen. “What?”

“You heard me. Did you call my sister the day of her ‘accident’?”

Alexandra flushes. “I-I don’t even have Piper’s number.”

“You’re telling me you never called her? Or met her up at Vanderwild Point on September sixteenth?”

“What are you talking about?” She takes a step back, and I realize my fists are balled at my sides. “I don’t have her number. You can check my phone.” She pulls it out, thrusting it at me, but I bat her hand away.

“That’s worthless to me. I know you didn’t use that phone.”

She frowns and lowers her phone to her side. “Savannah, what are you talking about?”

“Someone sent my sister up to the Point that day. Someone threatened her—told her to quit this club. Someone spoke to her on the phone twice that day. Someone namedAlex. You’re the only person in this club named Alex. And what I want to know is, were you up at the Point with her that day?”

Alexandra pulls out her phone, unlocks it. Starts scrolling through.

“I already told you, that thing is—”

She holds it in front of my face. “Just look at it.”

I do. The calendar app is open. September sixteenth is on the screen. BEN’S GAME is listed from two p.m. to nine p.m. “What’s Ben’s game?”

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