Page 60 of Dead Girls Can't Tell Secrets

I try to catch my breath, but Mr. Davis comes into focus. He climbs down from the log, and that dark haze covers my vision again.

“He…” I gasp, but the leaves in my periphery flutter. I turn, taking in the orange pop of Noah’s jacket, the vibrant red of Sam’s flannel shirt. The rest of the group trickles through the brush above, some already scattered nearby on the bank.

Jacey moves to sit down on the rock beside me. Twigs and pine needles are embedded in her disheveled hair and clinging to her sweatshirt. Taking a few ragged breaths, she leans in, placing a water bottle in my hand. “What happened?”

I flick open the cap with bleeding fingertips. “You’re asking me?” I hiss. “How did all of you manage to let him out of your sight?”

“I never even found him. By the time I caught up with the guys, they’d already lost track of Mr. Davis. I didn’t get a chance to say anything. Just keep quiet.”

“It’s too late,” I mumble. “He knows.”

Her eyes grow wide as Mr. Davis collapses to the ground in front of us, head bent over his knees. His breathing is labored and husky.

I fasten my eyes on him, watching his every move until a rattling sound breaks my focus. Tyler crouches down next to me. “Are you okay?”

I nod, my gaze skipping back to my target, but Grant steps in front of me, blocking my view. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, eyes wide as they skim over my torn, filthy clothes and bleeding fingers. “What were you doing, Savannah?”

“I’d like to know the same thing.” Abby’s boots crunch over the rocks as she moves to stand beside Sam. Noah and Alexandra hover behind us on the slope.

“Let her catch her breath,” Tyler says, like he’s some kind of saint. He promised he would keep an eye on Mr. Davis, and he broke that promise.

“I was running for my life,” I mutter. “The only reason I’m still here is that you guys showed up. Otherwise, I would’ve ended up just like my sister.”

“What do you mean?” Grant asks.

“Just keep Mr. Davis away from me.”

Sam eyes me leerily. “It looked like he was helping you, Savannah.”

“That’s because you didn’t see him chasing me through the forest!”

Mr. Davis lifts his head slowly. “Savannah, I had to make sure you didn’t get lost. You’re my responsibility this weekend. You all are. I’m so sorry about your sister. I really am. But you’re mistaken. You said Piper came to see me after school the day she fell, but I never saw her.”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “Right.” I glance at the others, my tangled blond hair whipping into my face. “He’s not theresponsible teacheryou all think he is. He’s dangerous! And he did something to Piper!”

Mr. Davis runs his fingers through his hair. “We have surveillance cameras in the school halls, Savannah. All the police have to do is watch the footage from that day.”

“Footage that you probably already doctored,” I snap. But my stomach splits, both halves sliding around. If I’m right and he did edit the footage, he might get away with this.

“You guys,” Abby says, looking at us with a mixture of terror and concern, “I’m sure Mr. Davis didn’tdosomething to Piper. I’m sure he can explain.”

She doesn’t get it. No one does. I have to make them understand that our club advisor is dangerous. I unzip my jacket pocket, dig my mangled fingertips inside. “Then why was her recorder in his bag?” I tug it out, letting it rest on my scraped, raw palm for all to see.

Mr. Davis squints at the silver object, and then darkness shifts into his eyes. “You were in my bag?” There’s an unsettling edge to his voice.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I know everyone’s been under a significant amount of stress,” Mr. Davis says, wiping sweat off his neck with his plaid shirtsleeve. “But you kids can’t resort to anarchy. There will be consequences when we get back.”

“Yeah, there will be consequences,” I retort, raising the recorder. “Because you did something to Piper. And this proves it. She went to see you before she fell, and somehow, you have the recorder that’s always in her pocket. The recorder you obviously want hidden.”

His lip curls, and he tugs at his collar. “Piper left it in my office. I only listened long enough to figure out it was hers.”

“Then why do you still have it?”

He’s silent for a too-long beat. “I was going to give it to her the next day, but then”—his eyes lower—“she didn’t come back to school, obviously. I meant to pass it off to you, but I kept forgetting to grab it from my office. Right before the hike, I finally remembered and stuffed it in my bag, knowing I’d see you on this trip.”

My heart drops another level. Is that all it’s going to take for Mr. Davis to weasel his way out of this? Maybe I should’ve kept that roll of tape. I’ll never be able to get to it now.

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