Fake Me To Church

Chapter 12.2 - Mama Mia

- AHMED -

"Ahmed?" Surprise exploded in his voice. "What the—how the heck did you get my number!?"

"Every guy on the team has it," I said. "We have a group text—"

"Ahmed, why are you calling me? What do you want?"

"Dude, please. Just hear me out."

He sighed heavily on the other end.

"I—I think I found something about Mr. Glenn and Madam Caroline's deaths..."

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm not a cop. If you think you've got info, take it to the police."

"Steven, you heard that detective; he thinks all of this is our fault. What if the cops don't believe us?"

He didn't say a word.

"I found a file," I tried. "Or, at least I think it's a file. It was in my house after Mrs. Darrow dropped me off, and...I don't know; it just really creeped me out."

Steven stayed silent.

"Steven?" I asked. "Are you still there?"

A pause, then, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." He paused again. "This might be weird, but...was there a name on the file?"

"Martin," I said. "Lane Martin."

"I don't believe it," he whispered. "There's no way."

"Why?" I puzzled. "Steven, what is it?"

"I—I think I just found the same file outside my dad's study."

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, you idiot! There was a picture and everything! She's some middle-school-looking girl."

"Yeah," I gulped. "That's her." I hesitated. "...What do you think this means?"

He exhaled lowly. "To tell you the truth, I don't know, man. I've never seen this girl before in my life. But my dad and Landon seem pretty spooked about it. I overheard 'em talking."

"This—this is insane."

"Yeah, whatever," Steven said curtly. "Look, Ahmed, I gotta go. And seriously, if you think up any new leads, call the cops next time."

"Hey, wait!" I practically yelled. "Come on. Don't just hang up on me like this."

"What do you mean? You literally called me out of the blue. What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know—maybe sound like you care at least a little bit?" I huffed. "Don't tell me this whole thing doesn't have you freaked out."

"Well, yeah, but I try not to make a habit of obsessing over things I can't control." Sarcasm drenched every syllable, his voice almost numb with condescension. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a steadily growing mound of bodies piling up throughout this town, and I'd rather not add my name to EdgeWay's student obituaries."

I don't believe this. "Fine," I spat, my own rage building. "You know, I really would've expected more from the pastor's son."

"And I really would've expected less from the bastard lovechild of Princess Jasmine and Osama Bin Laden."

My hands balled into fists, heat rushing to my head as I thought of more than a few choice words to say in reply—but then I felt it. I don't know what it was, but something came over me. Something smooth and calming seemed to wash along my whole body. My arms relaxed, jaw unclenching.

"What's the matter?" Steven said when I didn't scream back through the phone. "Flying carpet got your tongue?"

"Do you seriously never get tired of that?" I finally replied. "Are you honestly that afraid of just facing the truth?"