The Wrong Girl (Return to Fear Street Book 2)
The Wrong Girl: Part 3 – Chapter 39

“Maybe you put it on a different shelf,” Benny suggested.

“Maybe.” My legs were shaking. “Maybe . . . uh . . . I finished the bottle and threw it in the trash.”

Raap narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you remember doing that?”

“No,” I said honestly. “No. I remember putting the bottle on this shelf.”

Everyone in the basement was staring at me now, including Mom and Heather. Raap stepped up to the shelf and examined it himself. “Hydrochloric acid is powerful,” he said as he searched. “It’ll burn right through human skin on contact.”

I imagined Ivy in the hospital, her whole head covered in bandages. “How bad are Ivy’s burns?” I asked. “I haven’t been to the hospital.”

“Her face wasn’t burned,” Raap said. “Only her head and hands. If her hair grows back, it will cover most of the scars from the burns.”

“If her hair grows back?” I uttered. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A sob escaped my throat. “She was so proud of her hair. It was like . . . like her whole personality.”

“You wanted revenge, and you had the acid,” Raap said, almost in a whisper. “You can’t explain why the acid bottle isn’t here. Did you use it, Poppy?”

“No. Of course not!” I shouted.

“Does my daughter need a lawyer?” Mom demanded. “Are you charging her with this crime?”

“I’m not crazy!” I cried, before either cop could answer her. “Yes, I got angry at my friends. Yes, I said a lot of angry things. But I’m not a psycho. I’m not insane. I don’t go burning my friends’ hair off. I don’t! I don’t!”

I was screaming at the top of my lungs. Mom put her hands on my shoulders and then slid her arms down into a hug from behind, trying to calm me. My whole body was shaking, more with anger than with fright.

“Can we go upstairs?” Officer Raap was deliberately keeping his voice low and calm. I hated him. I hated him because I could read his thoughts. He thought he had solved the Case of the Acid in the Shampoo. A missing acid bottle was all it took. Case closed.

Perhaps he would get acid samples from Ivy’s scalp. He’d match the samples to hydrochloric acid, and if they matched, it would be obvious that I was the culprit; I was the psycho who sneaked into Ivy’s bathroom and mixed the shampoo solution.

As we headed back up to the living room, I had a sudden jolt of memory. I had used Ivy’s bathroom last night. I asked Ivy for the bathroom as soon as I arrived. I remembered that now, and I bet Ivy remembered it, too.

Case closed. I’m guilty.

As we took our old places in the living room, I watched for Officer Raap to whip out the handcuffs.

I saw Mom fidgeting in her chair, clasping and unclasping her hands. Heather had this blank look on her face, like maybe she was somewhere else. Or maybe she was thinking this couldn’t be happening.

That was my thought exactly, and of course, it was happening, and I was looking like a crazed psycho who would burn my friend’s head off because somehow that acid bottle just vanished from the shelf.

“Mrs. Miller, are you okay?” Benny asked. Both cops were watching her carefully.

“Not really,” she said. “I know that my daughter would never do anything like this, and I just can’t believe that you two are questioning her—”

“We’re questioning everyone in their circle of friends,” Benny offered. “Even my brother.”

“Manny?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Manny’s the last person I’d question. Manny is definitely not the killer type.”

“Who is?” Raap demanded.

The question caught me by surprise and I gasped.

“Poppy, do you know anyone who would want to harm Ivy?” he demanded.

“Besides me?” I replied. “No. I . . . I don’t. I—”

I heard a buzzing sound. Raap raised his palm, signaling for quiet. He pulled his phone to his ear. His eyes grew wide as he listened. He nodded once, twice, and muttered something I couldn’t hear.

Benny’s big body tensed. He stared at his partner, listening to what he could hear of the conversation. Mom sat forward on the edge of her chair. Heather started playing with her stringy hair, twisting and untwisting a strand.

Finally, Raap clicked off. He lowered his phone slowly to his lap, his expression thoughtful. “Afraid I have bad news,” he said finally, his face suddenly so pale it was ghostlike.

Benny shook his head and lowered his eyes. He knew what Raap was about to say.

Raap narrowed his eyes at me. “Your friend Jeremy has died in the hospital. He never recovered consciousness after the hornet stings.”

“Oh nooooo.” A shuddering gasp escaped my open mouth. I covered my face with both hands. I couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked my body. “Noooo. Oh noooo.”

I felt hands grip my rocking shoulders. I lowered my hands enough to see Mom trying to wrap me in an awkward hug. “This can’t be happening,” I choked out, my face soaked with tears. “These are my friends. This can’t be happening.”

The two officers were on their feet. “So sorry,” Benny said. “So sorry. This was a terrible crime. But we’ll replace the culprit.”

I covered my face again. I knew they still suspected me. But Benny’s words helped make me feel a little better. Mom held on to my shoulders. She motioned for Heather to show the two cops to the door.

“We’ll need to talk again,” Raap said. “Right now, we’d better get to Shadyside General.”

I heard the door close behind them. “I’m going to my room,” Heather said. “I . . . don’t know what to say. I’m totally messed up. My brain . . . it just won’t wrap itself around this. Sorry, Poppy.”

Mom squeezed my shoulders. “Look at me, Poppy,” she said in a low whisper. “Turn around and look at me.”

I lowered my hands from my face. My cheeks were hot and soaked in tears. To my surprise, Mom’s expression wasn’t sympathetic. It was stern.

She locked her eyes on mine. “I need you to tell me the truth, Poppy,” she said.

I blinked tears from my eyes. “Huh? The truth?”

Mom nodded. “Yes, I want the truth. You know those hornets came from my lab.”