ASSHOLES | scream au

13. alibi's

Amber's head was spinning, thoughts racing so fast they blurred together. Ghostface was back. Just the thought sent a shiver through her. Wasn't it enough that the nightmares haunted her almost every night? Now her worst fear had clawed its way back into reality—and this time, they were coming for her. Revenge. The word sat bitterly in her mind.

She didn't even remember falling asleep until she felt Tara gently shake her. Blinking groggily, Amber rubbed her eyes just in time to see Wayne Bailey walk into the room, a grim expression on his face.

"We found this next to the body at the apartment crime scene." Bailey raised an evidence bag, holding a bloody Ghostface mask. Right next to it, another bag contained Amber's license.

"DNA says the mask belonged to someone named Wes Hicks. Ring a bell?" he asked.

Sam responded before Amber could open her mouth. "We're familiar with him." Her tone was flat, guarded.

"The one who attacked us had a different kind of mask," Tara added. "Older, beat-up."

Bailey nodded, considering it. Then his expression hardened. "I have to ask—do you have alibis for earlier tonight?"

"I was at a party with friends," Tara answered without hesitation.

"I was with my therapist before meeting Tara at the party," Amber chimed in.

Sam folded her arms. "Same. I was at my therapist's, then met up with Amber and Tara at the party... where I tased someone." She shrugged, then added, "Unrelated."

Bailey raised an eyebrow. "Before or after this happened?" He held up his phone, playing a YouTube clip of Amber getting doused in soda.

Amber's jaw tightened, and she looked down. "Before," she muttered.

"The point is," Tara interjected, "we were with people all night."

Bailey glanced between them, studying their faces. Then Sam arched a brow, her voice laced with suspicion. "So my boyfriend's father just happens to pull our case, huh?"

Bailey smirked. "Oh, no—that would be a crazy coincidence, huh?" He leaned back slightly, almost enjoying himself. "Actually, the detective assigned to the case handed it off to me. It involves Richie, Quinn, and Ethan. But if you're uncomfortable, I can always pass it to someone else. Totally your call."

"It's fine," Sam said, shaking her head, though her expression remained unreadable.

Bailey lifted the plastic bag containing Amber's license. "Look, if the person who attacked you stole this and left it at the crime scene, they're probably someone you know." His eyes locked on each of them in turn. "How long have you known your friends?"

Amber ran a hand through her hair, exhaling. "We moved here six months ago with Chad, Mindy, and Richie—for summer semester, obviously."

"We've known Anika, Ethan, Quinn, Annabeth, and Cassie since then," Tara added.

Wayne gave them a reassuring smile. "I think I can vouch for my children, so that's three less people to worry about." Then, his tone turned more serious. "Can you think of anyone who would want to target either of you?"

Tara's expression darkened. "No one who's still alive."

Amber smirked, and Bailey let out a low whistle. "Yikes."

Amber crossed her arms, her voice edged with frustration. "He said he was going to punish me for what I did. One of those conspiracy nutjobs."

Just then, the door creaked open, and a uniformed cop poked his head inside. "FBI's here, claiming jurisdiction," he announced.