Page 55 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

His soccer binder.

It’s finally here, right in front of me, after all these hours of playing TA and survival girl. Of course it’s here, now that I’m in so much trouble the story no longer matters.

Or maybe it does.

I don’t know exactly what I heard that day with Jaime. Maybe Mr. Davis has simply been helping some troubled students and that threat I found in my Survival Club backpack was someone messing with me. Maybe there’s no deeper meaning, and if I close this case once and for all—if I can clear Mr. Davis’s name and get the school board off his back—he’ll overlook Savannah’s and my crimes.

At this point, I certainly don’t have much to lose. If he’s hiking all the way to the Point, I should have plenty of time before he returns to lock up. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder into the hall and then stride to the desk.

The binder is thick, filled with dividers labeled things like PLAYER CONTACT INFO and HEALTH RELEASE FORMS. But on the first try, it opens to the subsection I’m looking for.

RANDOM DRUG TESTS.

I’ve done enough snooping over the last month to know that the league is looking into whether performance-enhancing drugs are the reason for the team’s sudden spike in wins. I flip through the forms, all of which are marked “normal” in the results space in the upper right corner. Each is signed and stamped by a company called Phelps Lab, and there’s a large manila envelope, already addressed to the athletics association. But for whatever reason, Mr. Davis never sent the forms.

It’s a rather thin stack. I count them, and there are only eight forms, not even enough to field a team. It’s still preseason; maybe these are the only returning players. But something gnaws at me as I flip through the pages. Ben Walters is a returning senior. His test isn’t in here. And another player’s form is missing too.

Jaime Sanderson’s.

I shut the notebook and pull out my audio recorder. “Found Mr. Davis’s random drug tests. Some are missing, including Jaime Sanderson’s. Mr. Davis never sent the forms to the athletics association.” I press stop, slide the device back into my jacket pocket, and stoop to check the trash. But there’s nothing besides a browned apple core and a few crumpled sticky notes.

I spin around, the vein in my temple pulsating faster than it ever has before. Mr. Davis could return any second. There’s a paper shredder in the corner. I kneel down clumsily and tug at the lid until it pops off, then sift through the slivers. It’s impossible to tell if any of them came from a drug test without piecing them together, fragment by fragment.

I hold up one sliver to the light that filters through the small window, squinting to make out a word. I might have the beginning of a name.Ja—this could be it. My heart lifts, but then a deep voice hits me like an ice-cold wind.

“What are you doing in here?”

Keys jangle in the doorway as I turn to face him.

Chapter 22

I’m engaged in a stare-down with the tent poles.

“What are you doing?” Jacey is eyeing me from a safe distance.

“Trying to speed this show along. Mr. Davis has no intention of leaving, ever.”

She checks over her shoulder before inching closer. “You haven’t said anything to Grant, have you?”

“He had nothing to do with Piper,” I say, words dosed with anger.

“We don’t know that. He’s on the soccer team.”

I sling her a withering look. “You’d love for this to get pinned on Grant, wouldn’t you? A little retribution?”

She glowers at me, and I feel the progress we’ve made this weekend start to slip away.

“Any idea how to take this thing down?” I ask, changing the subject.

“You weren’t able to coax it into breaking itself down with menacing glares?”

I huff and start beating the nylon thing into submission.

“Or you could try that.” She sidesteps to avoid losing an eye to a pole.

A few minutes later, Jacey has the last pieces of our tent secured within her backpack.

“What do you guys say we practice some hunting methods?” Mr. Davis asks while tidying up the breakfast area. “Just technique,” he clarifies when Alexandra’s mouth drops open. “No animals will be harmed in the making of this educational moment, I assure you.”

---