Gilmore Lane was the border between campus’s wood side and beach side, and it was also the reason for Tag’s disciplinary strike. The day after I’d gotten my driver’s license, I’d asked Tag if he wanted to come to Whole Foods with me. All he had to do was get permission to leave campus from his housemaster. It wasn’t until Campo spotted him riding shotgun on our way back that I found out he’d never gotten the green light; he couldn’t get ahold of his housemaster, so he’d chanced it and ended up in both Headmaster Bickford’s office and in one of our biggest fights. Tag lying to me was unacceptable, even if he did want to carry my groceries.
“Wait, where are you going?” I asked when he turned left on Gilmore. We were supposed to go right, walk a quarter mile up the road, and then peel off onto the boathouse’s long drive. “Tag, stop.” I caught up to him. “Tell me where—”
“Shh,” he cut me off and took one of my hands. I barely felt him tug me along, instead noticing how clammy his palm was. Why was he so nervous?
Then I heard it—the unmistakable, motorizedhumof a Campo car. “Christ, why doeseverythinghappen on this street?” I muttered as Tag and I dove behind a tree together. Was it a good enough hiding spot?
We were about to find out. The Prius was getting closer, its engine growing louder, and its headlights now shining bright. The moment it caught a nearby patch of grass in its beams, I spun. This tree trunk wasn’t big enough to conceal us side byside, so I twirled to press myself up against Tag. He inhaled a sharp breath, but I tried to soften it. “Hey there, cowboy,” I whispered casually. “You on the run from the law or something?”
“Depends on who’s asking,” Tag whispered back, and when the Prius rolled up, I hid my face in his chest as he slid his arms around my waist to pull me closer. His touch was achingly familiar, so intoxicating that it made my heart throb.
Smoosh, I wanted to whisper before I forced myself to focus onsomething else. But the only something else was the approaching Campo car. We were going to get caught.
“How close is it?” I asked.
“By my best estimate,” Tag said, “pretty damn close.”
I peeked over his shoulder to see a white Prius and then lost all sense of space and time when the car not only reached us but alsostoppedin the middle of the road.
Tag’s arms tightened around me, his lips brushing my ear. “Don’t move,” he breathed as the driver door popped open and a patrolman climbed out with his flashlight. I couldn’t make out who it was, but the car wasn’t dented, so it wasn’t Harvey and Gabe.
Brian, I realized when I heard him speak. He wore a pair of AirPods. “Yeah, Gabe, I’m not sure what Sal saw,” he said, “but tell Harvey it seems to be clear on Gilmore.” There was a soft click, and then a ray of light slowly scanned our area. I burrowed into Tag’s T-shirt again, trying to find comfort in his frantic heartbeat. “No sign of any—” He dropped off, thensnorted. “No, no, you definitely saidGilmore.” He switched off his flashlight. “Gabe, put Harvey on the line…”
“He’s getting back into his car,” Tag murmured. Sure enough, the car door soon slammed shut. We both exhaled deep sighs of relief but clung to each other until the Prius had roved out of sight.
“I’ve never seen a more chill-inducing horror movie,” I said, cold sweat sliding down my spine. “Who do you think we have to thank for that tip-off?”
Tag pretended to shiver. “Toss-up between Zoe, Manik, or Rivera. They did say Campo was on the prowl.”
I bit my pinkie nail. “Try up their asses.”
“Yeah…” Tag said a little distantly, then looked at me. “Should we, uh, keep going?”
I nodded before quickly dashing off a warning text to Zoe and Alex, wherever they were. “Let’s not get our directions mixed up this time, though,” I joked. “Alright?”
Tag’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Before,” I said. “The boathouse is to the right, but you went left. Buildings and Grounds is to the left.”
“So I’ve been told,” Tag said lightly. “I’ve also been told that Leda has a key to their garage.”
A key to their garage.
I immediately caught his drift. “We couldn’t.”
Tag shrugged. “You called me a cowboy.”
“Bandit would’ve been better.”
Because you’ve broken almost all Ames’s laws.
Yet so had I.
Tag tipped an invisible Stetson. “I like cowboy. Cowboys are loyal, bandits are not.”
My throat thickened.Loyal.“Tag…”
“There’s only three clues left, but a lot of ground to cover,” he said. “What’s the harm, Hops?”
