10
John wasn’t well enough to do any work until later that night. He sat in his study writing up the fake memos when I received a call from a familiar phone number; it was Will Tanner. That reminded me how I’d blamed him for sneaking into my room when the real culprit was Sievers. I answered with the intention of giving him a fresh start; his first words tossed the fresh dirt back in my face, along with the shovel.
“I’ll get you for this, bitch.” My blood ran cold with that threat, but my heart was running just fine; it beat away at a healthy breaking-the-sound-barrier speed.
“W-what?” I stuttered out.
“You heard me, b***h. You’ve got the cops out on me and some other guys, and I’m going to make you sorry you did that.”
My mind was a mouse wheel of panicked thoughts, though my ea
