Chapter Two

Part 4

As I followed Ms. Bean—yes, Ms. Bean—through the halls of Hereford, I felt like I had been almost prescient. The school was everything I had predicted it would be and more. The walls were fashioned out of dark, gleaming wood, just as I’d imagined. The floors were glossed to such a high shine I could almost see my reflection in them. Everywhere I looked there was another painting or photograph of an aloof headmaster or a decorously dressed faculty member. Every now and then I’d hear a medley of voices or a peal of laughter, but the volume was muted by the thickness of the walls.

“You will be sharing your room with Danielle Fisher, one of our finest pupils,” Ms. Bean told me, her heels clip-clopping as she took a set of stairs to the second floor. The woman had a pointed chin and glasses with tiny round frames, and she wore a black turtleneck. We’d been right about the Miss Minchin idea—she looked just like the headmistress in Sara Crewe or What Happened at Miss Minchin’s by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

“She has had her room to herself since the commencement of the school year, but I’m sure she’ll be amenable to this new arrangement.”

Yeah, right, I thought. I knew I would be psyched if I had my own room and some new chick came swooping in and took over. This Danielle girl was about to forsake her swingin’ single-room lifestyle thanks to me. I could just imagine how a spoiled, stuck-up Hereford girl would feel about that. She’d probably be on the phone to Daddy in two-point-five seconds. Just what I needed—instant enmity .

Ms. Bean rapped on a door marked “217” and smiled a tight smile in my direction.

“Come in,” a quiet voice called out.

“Danielle, I’d like you to meet your new roommate,” Ms. Bean said crisply as she opened the door.

Danielle stood up from her computer, turning her back to it as if to hide the screen from us. (Probably carrying on a passionate email affair with her ski instructor in Switzerland.) She swung her long blond hair behind her back, and to my surprise, she smiled. Her expression was welcoming, even happily surprised. She was wearing a black V-neck sweater and hip-slung jeans and looked like she would fit right in with me and my friends. I was surprised by the affinity I felt for her. After all, she was a Hereford girl. I was supposed to feel nothing but disgust.

“Hi,” she said, lifting her hand in an almost-wave.

“Hi. I’m Kim Sharpe,” I said, proud of myself for getting even that little bit right. I bustled into the room and placed my bags on the empty bed that was shoved against the far wall along with an empty desk and a dresser.

“Oh, we can rearrange the furniture. It’s just like that because I’ve been alone,” Danielle said.

“Thanks,” I replied.

I noticed that Danielle’s room, while not a total disaster, was far from antiseptic like my mother’s house. Her open closet was jam-packed, and there were some sweaters bunched up on the floor on top of her shoes. The garbage was in desperate need of an emptying, and her bed looked slightly mussed, as if she’d recently been napping or reading over there. I had a feeling we were going to get along just fine.

“Well, I’ll leave you girls to get acquainted,” Ms. Bean said. “Good evening.”

Danielle laughed the instant the door was closed and sat down on her bed, facing me.

“She’s a convivial person, isn’t she?” I said lightly.

“Convivial,” Danielle repeated, sounding impressed.

I flushed. “Yeah, back home they call me the walking dictionary,” I told her with an apologetic shrug. “Hope you don’t mind, cause I can’t control it.”

“Are you kidding? It’s fine!” Danielle told me. “I’m always slipping and using big words myself. The kids here think I’m showing off, but I’m not. It’s just the way I talk.”

“Me too!” I said, grinning. See? I knew I liked this girl.

“So! Tell me all about yourself!” Danielle prompted, leaning back against the wall.

“All about myself?” I repeated uncertainly. She had to be the inquisitive type, didn’t she? I could probably regurgitate everything I knew about Kim Sharpe in the space of ten minutes, but then what were we going to talk about?

“Oh, sorry. I don’t mean to be presumptuous,” she said, flushing so fast I thought her skin was about to burn off. “I guess I’m just excited to have a roommate. There’s kind of a dearth of people to talk to around here. At least for me.”

“Really?” I asked.

Leading questions, I remembered Quincy telling me. Always be interested in others, but don’t give up too much about yourself.

“What do you mean?” I pressed.

“Well, let’s just say I’m not Miss Popularity at Hereford Academy,” Danielle replied, getting up and crossing to her dresser. She toyed with the scalloped edge of a frame that was propped up there. The picture appeared to be of her and a guy, but it was hard to tell from that distance.

My heart instantly went out to her. She seemed so forlorn.

“It’s really just me and David,” Danielle added, regaining some of her spark.

“David? Is that your boyfriend?”

Danielle laughed. “Uh . . . no. David and I do not have that kind of relationship. We’re just buddies. He’s my best friend here, which is why it’s so cool that you’re here now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I may actually get to have a girlfriend,” Danielle said sheepishly.

Oh, wow. That would’ve been pathetic if it weren’t so earnest.

She checked her watch. “David’s actually going to be here any second to go down to dinner. You can come with us!” she said brightly.

She was so jubilant at the prospect of dinner I nearly laughed out loud. Then it hit me that we were standing here talking about someone who had the very same first name as one of my suspects. Could I possibly be that lucky?

I pulled out a Hereford student directory that Ms. Bean had given me.

“What’s David’s last name?” I asked. I flipped open the directory as if I were just run-of-the-mill curious to see what he looked like.

“Rand. David Rand,” Danielle clarified. “He’s the best. You’re going to love him.”

I couldn’t believe it. My roommate was bff (best friends forever) with one of my prime suspects! How perfect was this? I was so caught up in the felicitous turn of events that I barely even noticed the fact that Danielle was acting like she already knew me and could tell what kind of people I was going to love.

There was a knock at the door, and my stomach lurched. This was it. The investigation was on.

“Hey!” Danielle said, opening the door for a guy that was, without a doubt, suspect number one—David Rand. His hair was cropped a bit closer than it had been in the picture, and he was shorter than I expected, but it was him—my little hacker.

“Hey. Ready for some grub?” David asked, rubbing his hands together. Then he noticed me, and his eyes did that kind of flicking thing they do when you see someone you find attractive. Whatever David saw in me, he obviously liked it. I wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or scared. I mean, he was a suspect, and from the sound of his file, he was also kind of a nut job.

“And you are?” he asked, sidling over to me. He didn’t lack confidence, that was for sure.

“David, this is Kim, my new roommate,” Danielle said with that giddy smile. “Kim, meet David Rand.”

“Hey,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” David said with that broad smile he’d evinced in his picture. “Shall we?” he asked, glancing at Danielle.

“We shall,” she joked back with a formal nod.

She grabbed her keys and we all headed out for the dining hall together. David and Danielle walked ahead of me as I closed the door and I couldn’t help saying a little thank-you to the gods. I was already in with my first suspect and I’d only been at Hereford for half an hour.

This case was going to be cake.