Chapter Seven

Part 3

That night I sat in David’s room, propped up on Christian’s pillow, watching a particularly poignant episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (he had every available episode on DVD) and waiting to put my premeditated plan into action. Even though I was practically ready to convict Jon, I had to try to stay objective in this investigation, and that meant finding out everything I could about each of the suspects. I was going to abolish this drug problem no matter who I had to take down in the process. Luckily, once I had made my breakthrough with Jon, brilliant plans seemed to be coming to me spontaneously.

Tonight I was going to work my magic on David.

Unwary, David was over in the corner—a small area he called his “culinary nook”—making grilled cheese sandwiches on his hot plate. He kept telling me he was starving, which seemed impossible considering the amount of food he’d consumed at dinner. But I guess it wasn’t that surprising. I’ve never known a teenage guy to be abstemious. Besides, his snack-time jones was perfect for me, since my eating something was integral to my plan.

“Voila!” David said, ceremoniously presenting me with my first David Rand Special—a grilled cheese accompanied by barbecued potato chips and, I was sorry to see, a glass of iced tea. I glanced at the bottle on his desk. Empty. Thank goodness.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the plate from him. “You definitely know how to regale your guests.”

“Your wish is my command,” David said with a tiny bow.

We laughed and I leaned back again. I took a few bites of the sandwich, which was, by the way, the best I’d ever had. Then I decided it was as good a time as any to put my plan into action.

I swallowed a wad of sandwich and then, I started to choke. David looked up from the hotplate, his face concerned, as I tipped over my plate and dropped my glass to the floor, shattering it and spilling iced tea everywhere. I stood up, coughing my little heart out, and held my hands to my neck in the universal sign for choking.

My high school drama teacher would have been so proud.

“Are you all right?” David asked.

I shook my head, coughing all the way.

David’s face went ashen. He ran over and started pounding me on the back—hard.

“Water . . . ,” I rasped. “Soda . . . I need—“

David nodded and ran from the room, unwittingly playing into my hands. I felt guilty for a split second—he looked so overwrought. But my fake choking display was a mere peccadillo compared to the sin I was about to commit.

The second he was gone I sat down in front of his computer and opened up his personal files. Tad had coached me to look for anything that sounded inordinately innocent or harmless. He wasn’t going to label his drug-dealing records “Drug-dealing records.” It would probably be something more like “Term Papers” or “Family Tree” or—

“Poetry,” I said aloud, clicking on the folder. There were probably a lot of kids at this school who considered themselves to be oppressed artists, but David did not seem like the type.

My heart pounded as the file opened, and I kept one ear on the hallway for rapid footsteps. I knew, however, that David would have to go all the way downstairs and through the lobby to get me a soda from the first-floor lounge. I had about five minutes.

I gasped when I saw the file open in front of me. “Got it in one,” I said, suddenly feeling morose. There was a list of students’ names—at least thirty of them—with dollar amounts next to them. Some kind of pecuniary record. It was all very incriminating.

But David’s a technology freak. Wouldn’t he have encrypted a file with a list of drug monies owed? I thought, my mind trying to find a way to absolve him. I realized suddenly that I had hoped David would turn out to be innocent. I really liked the guy. And maybe he was innocent. After all, I had expected a lot more resistance from his computer than I’d faced. Maybe David had just lent out a lot of money and this was a list of his debtors.

Of course, if this list was a rundown of his drug customers, it probably wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, and David had to know that. It wasn’t labeled and there was no way to verify that it had anything to do with drugs. Plus, keeping it semi-exposed actually made him look more innocent by default. The more hidden it was, the more incriminating it would be if someone did hack in and find it. The kid was good.

I heard footsteps pounding down the hall, and there was an actual tremor in the floor, heralding David’s approach. I hit the command button to bring up the screensaver again and flew across the room to sit down on Christian’s bed. When David entered the room he was panting and he practically fell to the floor at my knees. I had resumed coughing, but I wasn’t hamming it up quite so much.

“Thanks,” I said, making my voice all gravelly. “It went down the wrong pipe.”

He opened the soda can for me and handed it over. “I’m just glad you’re all right,” he said, catching his breath. His eyes were wide and worried. “You scared the crap outta me.”

My heart hurt over his concern for me, but I managed to smile slightly and slugged at the soda. I wished I’d found something that would allow me to grant David clemency, rather than another clue to heighten suspicion against him. He was such a sweetie. Could he really be a drug dealer?