“We don’t keep anything that current in collections,” she said, “but if you look online, I believe the Portland Press Herald keeps archives on their website. Head straight down the hallway behind you and you’ll see the media lab on your left.”
Inside the lab I signed onto a computer. I was about to dive into my assignment when an idea struck me.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it earlier. After confirming no one was watching over my shoulder, I Googled “Patch Cipriano.” Maybe I’d find an article that would shed light on his past. Or maybe he kept a blog.
I frowned at the search results. Nothing. No Facebook, no MySpace, no blog. It was like he didn’t exist.
“What’s your story, Patch?” I murmured. “Who are you—really?”
Half an hour later, I’d read several reviews and my eyes were glazing over. I spread my online search to all newspapers in Maine. A link to Kinghorn Prep’s school paper popped up. A few seconds passed before I placed the familiar name. Elliot had transferred from Kinghorn Prep. On a whim, I decided to check it out. If the school was as elite as Elliot claimed, it probably had a respectable paper.
I clicked on the link, scrolled over the archives page, and randomly chose March 21 of earlier this year.
A moment later I had a headline.
STUDENT QUESTIONED IN KINGHORN PREP MURDER
I scooted my chair closer, lured by the idea of reading something more exciting than theater reviews.
A sixteenyearold Kinghorn Preparatory student who police were questioning in what has been dubbed
“The Kinghorn Hanging” has been released without charge. After eighteenyearold Kjirsten Halverson’s body was found hanging from a tree on the wooded campus of Kinghorn Prep, police questioned sophomore Elliot Saunders, who was seen with the victim on the night of her death.
My mind was slow to process the information. Elliot was questioned as part of a murder investigation?
Halverson worked as a waitress at Blind Joe’s. Police confirm that Halverson and Saunders were seen walking the campus together late Saturday night. Halverson’s body was discovered Sunday morning, and Saunders was released Monday afternoon after a suicide note was discovered in Halverson’s apartment.
“Find anything interesting?”
I jumped at the sound of Elliot’s voice behind me. I whirled around to find him leaning against the doorjamb. His eyes were narrowed ever so slightly, his mouth set in a line. Something cold flushed through me, like a blush, only opposite.
I wheeled my chair slightly to the right, trying to position myself in front of the computer’s monitor.
“I’m—I’m just finishing up homework. How about you? What are you doing? I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been standing there?” My pitch was all over the place.
Elliot pushed away from the doorjamb and walked inside the lab. I groped blindly behind me for the monitor’s on/off button.
I said, “I’m attempting to jumpstart my inspiration on a theater review I’m supposed to have to my editor by later tonight.” I was still speaking much too fast. Where was the button?
Elliot peered around me. “Theater reviews?”
My fingers brushed a button, and I heard the monitor drain to black. “I’m sorry, what did you say you’re doing here?”
“I was walking by when I saw you. Something wrong? You seem … jumpy.”
“Uh—low blood sugar.” I swept my papers and books into a pile and shoehorned them inside my backpack. “I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
Elliot hooked a nearby chair and wheeled it next to mine. He sat backward on it and leaned close, invading my personal space. “Maybe I can help with the review.”
I leaned away. “Wow, that’s really nice of you, but I’m going to call it quits for now. I need to grab something to eat. It’s a good time to break.”
“Let me buy you dinner,” he said. “Isn’t there a diner just around the corner?”
“Thanks, but my mom will be expecting me. She’s been out of town all week and gets back tonight.” I stood and tried to step around him. He held his cell phone out, and it caught me in the navel.
“Call her.”
I lowered my gaze to the phone and scrambled for an excuse. “I’m not allowed to go out on school nights.”
“It’s called lying, Nora. Tell her homework is taking longer than you expected. Tell her you need another hour at the library. She’s not going to know the difference.”
Elliot’s voice had taken on an edge I’d never heard before. His blue eyes snapped with a newfound coldness, his mouth looked thinner.
“My mom doesn’t like me going out with guys she hasn’t met,” I said.
Elliot smiled, but there was no warmth. “We both know you’re not too concerned with your mom’s rules, since Saturday night you were with me at Delphic.”
I had my backpack slung over one shoulder, and I was clutching the strap. I didn’t say anything. I brushed past Elliot and walked out of the lab in a hurry, realizing that if he turned the monitor on, he’d see the article. But there wasn’t anything I could do now.
Halfway to the collections desk, I dared a glance over my shoulder. The plateglass walls showed that the lab was empty. Elliot was nowhere to be seen. I retraced my steps to the computer, keeping my eyes on guard in case he reappeared. I turned on the monitor; the murder investigation article was still up.
Sending a copy to the nearest printer, I tucked it inside my binder, logged off, and hurried out.
CHAPTER 12