When senior students at Lincoln High receive the same deadly text message, it falls upon Helena Gallagher and an unlikely companion to solve the mystery and catch the killer.
••••
High school student, Helena Gallagher is a murder fanatic. A devoted...
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Elliot starfishes across my bed, elbows up, reading from his phone. His teeth sink into his lower lip, the flesh swelling as a result. It doesn't matter how many times I tell him to stop, he always reverts back to the old habit.
"Poetry," he states. "Albeit, shit poetry but still..."
I laugh.
"Check this out too," he insists, showing me his phone. "In the third text, they address Principle Wilson as Principle Wilson. Surely, only a student would do that?" he asks, deconstructing each message.
He's right. If the killer is an adult, wouldn't they refer to him by his real name?
"Or, is that what they want us to think?" I question, chewing on my pen.
"Hmm."
I fire up my laptop and check Facebook for the umpteenth time, clicking on Zoe Robinson's profile. She's currently under police protection and although advised against doing so, texted the sender back asking for truth. We know this because about an hour ago, a message came through, detailing her 'sinful secret', alongside photographic evidence. As it turns out, angel-face Zoe Robinson has sex with high-end business men for money. Despite being filthy rich.
"Wait a minute," I say, reaching for my notepad and pen. "Each secret so far has been related to sex in some way, right?"
Elliot nods. "That's right."
"So, let's looks at things in order," I suggest. "And more specifically."
He sits up, encouraging me to continue.
"First of all, we have Sienna." I write her name down in block capitals. "It's fair to say her affair with Principle Wilson was unethical."
"Agreed."
"Then we have Tom. His relationship with Francesca is incest."
Elliot recoils. "I don't think-"
"I'm speaking from the mindset of the killer here," I interrupt, tapping the pen against my temple.
"Fair enough. Carry on..."
I take a deep breath in, organising my thoughts. "Principle Wilson was cheating on his wife with Sienna. Or, in other words, he was committing adultery."
By now, I'm scribbling away notes like a person possessed.
"And lastly, Zoe. She was sleeping with men for money...
"Prostitution," concludes Elliot, scooting himself closer to me. "Fuck, I think you're onto something here, Lena."
It's the first time he's called me that and although I should probably be focusing up, I can't help but grin. Because, even though it's just a shortened version of my actual name, it somehow signifies more than that. It's proof that he's comfortable around me. Self-assured.
