“Yeah, just overdue,” Trevor says, moving past me. “What’re you guys up to?”
“Solving a murder,” I say.
Trevor spins around. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t mind her.” Alex moves in front of me and gently shoves me inside his room. “Ever.”
“Hey!” I say, craning my neck so I can see Trevor shake his head as he takes the stairs two at a time.
“Stay out of trouble, you two,” he calls, then heads out the front door.
Alex follows me inside his room and flops down on his bed, but I make a beeline for his closet where he keeps the erasable markers. “What are you even doing?” Alex asks.
I move to the whiteboard hanging on his wall. “I’m laying out the facts.”
“I thought we were going swimming.”
Outside, the wind picks up, batting a branch against the window, and the natural light in Alex’s room grows a shade darker, the weather taking a sharp turn. “Mother Earth has other plans,” I say. “Come on. You know you want to.”
Alex sighs behind me, but he doesn’t protest.
My heart rate picks up as I start constructing a story, writing the words down as they come to me, speaking them out loud. “Billy Godwin was found dead in the Long Island Sound on Saturday.”
I tap the marker cap against my chin and stare at the board. A tinyzingshoots through my limbs, the same one that starts when I’m faced with a problem to solve, when that problem actually has a solution that can be figured out with a little brainpower. “We need clues.”
“This is pointless,” Alex says. “We arenotdetectives.”
“But we could be.” I boop his nose, and he frowns, swatting my hand away. “Let’s use our powers for good.”
“When have we ever used them for evil?” he mumbles, annoyed, but I power through.
“Who else was at the party? That’s our list of witnesses. And suspects.”
Alex falls back against the bed, bouncing slightly.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“Now you have to. Was Ethan there or something?”
Alex rests a hand over his face but speaks through his muffled fingers. “Yes.”
“Well. Yeah. Shit.” I push my curls off my forehead. “He’s not a suspect. I mean, it’sEthan.”
“Obviously.”
“Who else was also there? Not Lucy. I was still awake when she came home and heard her close the door to her bedroom. But I’m gonna guess Justin Vreeland was there since we literally saw him walk into the police station,” I say. “If Ethan was there, Dylan definitely was too. Probably the usual party crowd. Like Erica—”
I stop, an idea forming quickly.Erica.
“She was on yearbook with you, right?” I ask Alex.
“She was theeditorof the yearbook. You know this. That’s why she was always carrying around that digital camera, taking photos of everything.”
I point finger guns at Alex, waiting for him to realize what we have to do. It takes a minute, but then his eyes go wide. “You think she took photos of the party on that thing? Yearbook’s over.”
“I mean,everyonetook photos of the party, I assume. But they’re all on their phones. Erica’s might be on that camera. Which would be much easier to—”
