I shot him a death look, but before I could spit out a scathing reply, Mom shouted, "Boutonnières!" and emerged from the kitchen with two little plastic boxes.

  I took the non-purple one and leaned in to grab Chase's lapel.

  I'd never done this before, and the huge pin that came with the flower was kinda intimidating. I had a horrible vision of stabbing Chase and getting blood all over the first white shirt I'd ever seen him wear.

  My hands shook a little as I slowly poked the pin through the front of his tux, navigating around the thick rose stem.

  "Easy, Featherstone," I heard Chase whisper.

  I looked up. He was grinning at me. He thought this was funny?

  "Ouch!"

  "Oops. My finger slipped."

  He shot me a look. "I'll bet."

  "Pictures!" Mom said, appearing beside me with a camera.

  "Oh, Mom, we don't really need pictures," I pleaded.

  "Okay, line up," she said, totally ignoring me. "Hart, move closer to Chase."

  "Mom, please. I told you I don't need—"

  "Chase, put your arm around your date's shoulders."

  I rolled my eyes. And Mom accused me of tuning her out.

  "That's it. Move in just a little closer so I can get you all in frame."

  Chase pulled me tightly against him. His arm around my shoulders was warm, and I felt myself start to sweat in places that would stain my satin dress.

  "Mom…" I pleaded again.

  "Smile, Hart," Chase whispered in my ear, hamming it up as Mom popped off shots.

  If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was enjoying this.

  After Mom had taken at least a dozen pics of us in every position possible, we all escaped out the front door…where Chase's Camaro sat at the curb.

  "Oh, no way." I shook my head as Sam and Kyle climbed into the tiny back seat. "You guys are kidding me, right?"

  Chase looked from me to the car. "What?"

  "We're going in that?" Why had I not taken Mom up on that limo thing?

  "Yep." Chase beamed.

  "No way."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'd like to arrive at Homecoming in one piece."

  Chase rolled his eyes. "You have two choices here, Hart. My car or walking."

  I bit my lip, tasting lipstick. I looked down at my heels. Up at his car. Back at the heels.

  "Well?"

  "I'm thinking!"

  Chase rolled his eyes again then walked around to the driver's side.

  Without much choice, I hopped in.

  On the upside, if I died on the way, at least I'd make a sparkly corpse.

  * * *

  The HHH cafeteria had been completely transformed as we walked in the doors. Gone were the rows of Formica tables, and in their place was a dance floor complete with a shimmering disco ball.

  The dance's theme was tropical oasis, meaning potted palms were stuck in every corner, paper fish adorned the walls, and the tables lining the sides of the room were piled high with fruit-centric appetizers and Hawaiian ice. There was a tiki bar where parent chaperones were serving Pineapple Pleasure and Mango Madness punch in small glasses complete with little umbrellas.

  Several teachers were in attendance as chaperones, as well as some parents. I spotted Sam's mom and dad taking spots near the dance floor, keeping a keen eye on Kyle. Luckily, I'd been able to "lose" the email calling for parent volunteers before my mom had read it.

  The DJ fired up a song, and we all jumped onto the dance floor (Kyle making sure he kept at least an arm's length away from Sam). The Homecoming hopefuls got a conga line going, and pretty soon everyone was laughing and goofing as we weaved through the dance floor. Clique lines seemed to blur as we all crushed together for the chicken dance, and as the DJ had mercy and played some current music, I had to admit as far as being bait went, I was kinda having fun. The energy was high, the music was loud, and laughter echoed off the beige walls as we all made fun of one anothers' dance moves.

  Five songs into it, I could feel my mascara starting to sweat away and needed a breather.

  "I'm gonna grab a drink," I said.

  "What?" Chase yelled.

  "I'm gonna go get a drink!"

  "Huh?"

  "DRINK!"

  Chase nodded. "Right. Cool."

  I threaded my way through the crowd, Chase a step behind me, taking his role as bodyguard seriously as we pushed through the people to the Mango Madness station. I downed my cup in almost a single gulp before getting back in line for seconds.

  "Chase?"

  I turned to see Chris Fret and the new guy on the Homepage, Michael, hailing him from across the room. "Come check this out."

  Chase shook his head. "Gotta stay with my date."

  "Go. I'm fine," I said, shooing him.

  "No way. I'm sticking to you like glue tonight. That was the deal."

  "Look around, Chase. We're surrounded by teachers. Nothing's going to happen to me at the Mango Madness station. I'll stay right here. I'm fine. Go."

  Chase paused, letting the logic of that sink in. He glanced to our right, where Mr. Lipkins was chatting with Ashley Stannic under a plastic palm. To our left, the Kramers were still eyeing their daughter on the dance floor. Behind us, three more parents mingled with the vice principal. If the killer was going to strike, this was so the wrong moment.

  "Okay," Chase finally said. "But stay here. I'll be right back. Five minutes."

  I nodded. "Scout's honor."

  I watched Chase jog toward Chris and Michael then do some sort of complicated handshake thing, all three of them making fun of one another's tuxes.

  I grabbed another drink then sat in one of chairs along the wall. I slipped my left high heel off, my foot immediately sighing in relief. They were cute shoes, but they were not made for dancing. Or walking. Or standing. Or anything that required my feet to be smashed into them.

  I took a moment to look around as I rubbed the bottom of my foot. If I had to guess, I'd say at least seventy percent of the school was in attendance. I spotted Connor hanging out under a school of paper fish near the stage. Surprisingly, Val Michaels was at his side, though I noticed his eyes were on Jenni, who was dancing with one of the football players. Looked like she'd made good on her promise to ditch Connor and had moved on already.

  Just to my right were Drea and a couple of her cheerleader friends. She had her phone out, shooting a video of the dance floor. I could hear her narrating the scene for Nicky, who was apparently still in the hospital.

  Surprisingly, even Quinn was there, seemingly having gotten a reprieve from her grounding. She was with some guy I didn't know from the water polo team, dancing near Sam and Kyle.

  All our suspects were in one place. Sydney's killer had to be in this room. The thought gave me chills, despite the heat still coursing through me from the aerobic dance workout.

  "Hartley," Mr. Lipkins said, coming up beside me. He'd thrown a sports jacket over his usual dumpy uniform of pastel shirts and corduroys, the elbows accented with plaid patches.

  I cleared my throat. "Hi."

  "How is your story coming along for the paper?"

  I nodded. "Fine. Good."

  "Ashley tells me that you're printing something on Monday about who killed Sydney?"

  "We're getting very close," I hedged. Which, if tonight was successful, was the truth.

  He frowned. "So, does that mean you also know how my test answers got out?"

  I bit my lip. "Not exactly. But we're almost there." Another stretch. But I hesitated to tell him anything about Nicky's scheme. At least not yet.

  "Well, I hope we find them soon. I have a bad feeling someone may have tried to break into the admin office a couple nights ago," he said, eyebrows furrowed.

  I froze. "Uh, you do?" I asked, my voice going higher than usual.

  He nodded, a grave look on his face. "The file cabinets were unlocked."

  "Really?" Minnie Mouse squeaked out.

  "Really. You don't happen to have an idea who might have done that, do you?"

  "Me?"

  "Your voice okay?"

  I cleared my throat. "I mean, why do you think I might?" I asked, feeling a guilty blush creep up my neck.

  He shrugged. "You're investigating the whole cheating scandal. I thought you might have turned up some information."

  I shook my head so hard I felt my tiara go crooked. "Nope. Not me. Sorry. No idea about how that might have happened. A couple nights ago, you say? I was home. Yep, at home. Nope. Sorry."

  He gave me a funny look but nodded again. "Okay. Well, please let me know as soon as you learn anything new."

  I nodded, feeling that tiara slip again.

  "Yep. I totally will," I promised.

  Which was almost true. If tonight went well, I'd be letting everyone know who Sydney's killer was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The rest of the evening moved by in fast forward. We danced some more, ate some more, and then danced again, all the while keeping our eyes peeled for anyone with murderous intentions. (At one point Kyle swore Sam's dad was going to kill him for kissing her on the cheek, but that didn't really count.) Halfway through the night, the music finally stopped and the vice principal's voice came over the loudspeaker.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to announce this year's Herbert Hoover High Homecoming Court!"

  A roar went up from the crowd, everyone immediately pushing toward the front of the room.

  "Before we begin," she said, hovering near a microphone center stage, "I want to take a moment to remember a Herbert Hoover High student, Sydney Sanders."

  A hush went over the room, instantly dropping the party level about fifty notches.

  "Sydney may not have been a model student," the VP went on, clearly alluding to her cheating, "but she was an enthusiastic participant in many after school activities and never lacked in school spirit. So, I'd like us all to take a brief moment of silence for Sydney."

  She bowed her head over the microphone, and the audience did the same, the only sound in the echoing cafeteria the rustle of taffeta. In the quiet, I could almost feel the weight of finding Sydney's killer pressing down on me. He, or she, was somewhere in this room. I was sure of it.

  "And now," the VP said a moment later, breaking the silence, "on to the Homecoming nominees!"

  A roar of excitement went up again, almost louder than the first time, as if needing to ramp the energy up that much higher to chase the sadness from the room.

  "First we'll start with our Princesses and Princes," she went on, reading off a piece of paper as she leaned down into the microphone. "Our first royal couple is…David Hech and Cori Cooper!"

  I watched as the soccer player–color guard girl combo did some fist pumping and knuckle bumping with their friends. Then they jogged up the steps to the stage where last year's royal court was waiting with crowns and sashes.

  "Next we have…Jenni Pritchard and Connor Crane! Come on up, kids!"

  I scanned the room for the now non-couple. Jenni gave her date a kiss on the cheek before eagerly bounding to the stage. Connor, on the other hand, looked like he'd just been punched. All his scheming to win King, and here he was a lowly prince. I would have felt sorry for him, but I knew at the end of the night he'd be going home with his one true love anyway—himself.

  "And last but not least, I'd like to introduce to you our Herbert Hoover High School Homecoming King and Queen…" She paused, pulling her glasses up to read the names.

  The entire school leaned forward as one, waiting to hear the announcement.

  "…Well, look at that, it's a write-in couple. Samantha Kramer and Kyle Lowe!"

  "Ohmigosh!" Sam jumped up next to me, grabbing my arm in a vise grip. "Ohmigosh. Ohmigosh…did you hear that? I think she called my name. Ohmigosh!" She squealed so loudly I thought she might bust my eardrum as she danced from foot to foot and grabbed on to Kyle's lapels.

  "Dude, we are like, the hottest couple in school!" Kyle said.

  "Ohmigosh! Ohmigosh!"

  I couldn't help smiling as I watched Sam and Kyle run up the stairs to the stage amidst a roar of applause from the crowd. Apparently I wasn't the only one at school who'd taken note of Sam and Kyle's cuteness as a couple. The entire lacrosse team was chanting Sam's name, and Ashley Stannic was furiously taking more pics of the pair for the Homepage as they accepted their crowns. Kyle's was a tall, sparkling thing that looked like it belonged in a kid's dress-up box, and Sam's rivaled anything I'd ever seen in beauty pageants on TV, standing a good two feet above her natural hair.

  Last year's Queen put a sash over Sam's head, and Kyle and Sam held hands, grinning from ear to ear as the crowd cheered.

  "Congratulations, Samantha and Kyle," the VP said into the microphone again. Though, above the roar of the audience, it was almost a lost cause. "Now we'd love to have all the couples on the dance floor to join our King and Queen in their first royal dance."

  Slow music erupted from the speakers, a soft Jason Mraz song. The crowd settled down, dispersing as people paired into twos, standing close to each other and swaying back and forth. Sam and Kyle descended the stage stairs and took up a spot in the center of the dance floor—each keeping one hand on the other and one hand on their massive crowns to keep them from falling off.

  I turned to go find another glass of Mango Madness, when I felt Chase's hand on my arm.

  "Hey. Where are you going?"

  I glanced at the dance floor. "Well, it's only for couples."

  Chase raised an eyebrow at me. "You are my date."

  I blinked at him, trying to figure out if he was joking.

  He grinned, a lopsided thing that showed off a dimple in his left cheek. "Come on. Dance with me, Featherstone."

  I pursed my lips together, tasting lipstick. "Okay. I guess."

  Chase took my hand in his, and I instantly felt goose bumps break out, shivering down my bare arms. Must have been a sudden gust of wind. Certainly couldn't have anything to do with how warm his hand felt. How strong. How intimate.

  Yep. Just the wind.

  I gulped down a wave of apprehension as Chase moved in close, putting both hands at my waist. His palms were so hot I was sure they were making smoldering handprints there. I ignored the sensation, focusing on moving my feet a few inches at a time to the left, letting Chase lead me in slow circles as we swayed with the rest of the couples.

  "I like the dress," Chase said, his voice low. "Red's a good color on you."

  I opened my mouth to speak, but only a strangled sort of squeak came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Uh, thanks. You…you look nice, too."

  He grinned, that dimple making an appearance again. "Thanks. I feel kinda ridiculous in this, to be honest."

  I shook my head. "No, you look good. It looks good on you. I mean, it's all good."

  His smiled widened. "Good."

  And then he moved in closer, getting rid of any space that might have existed between us, his arms going around my middle, his cheek close to mine, his breath heavy on my hair.

  My entire body was suddenly filled with awkward energy. Was I stepping on his feet? Was my deodorant holding up okay? Where was I supposed to put my hands? I had to concentrate on the simplest of tasks. Like breathing. I inhaled the spicy scent of what was definitely cologne this time.

  "Relax," Chase whispered in my ear as if he could read my racing mind. "I don't bite." He paused. "Unless you want me to."

  Oh boy.

  I stumbled, tripping over his foot and twisting my ankle beneath my too-high heels.

  Chase caught me. "Dude, I was kidding," he said, teeth showing as he grinned at me.

  I nodded. "Right. Yeah. I know."

  "You okay?"

  "Great. Fine. Dandy. Just…it's a little warm. I'm gonna go hit the bathroom."

  "Okay, I'll come with you," he said, grabbing my hand again.

  I quickly pulled it back. "To the girls' bathroom? I think I can manage by myself."

  "I'll walk you there."

  "I'm fine. Geez! I'm just going pee, okay?"

  He paused. But instead of looking hurt, he just grinned again. "Okay. Go 'pee.' I'll wait here."

  "Thank you."

  I quickly scuttled from the dance floor, ducking my head so that my red cheeks didn't telegraph the mix of sensations rolling around in my belly. What was wrong with me? Clearly the tiara was cutting off circulation to my brain.

  At the back of the cafeteria was a short hallway that ended in both the girls' and boys' bathrooms. At the moment, it was nearly empty since most of the school was out on the floor slow dancing.

  While I needed a few minutes to get away from the heat, the truth was I did have to pee. Being nervous did that to me. And dancing with Chase had made me way nervous.

  I turned down the corridor and made a beeline toward the bathroom.

  But I never made it.

  Instead, I felt something come at me from behind, a sharp pain erupting behind my right ear as bright spots danced in front of my face. My heels buckled under my feet, and the ground rushed up to meet me.

  And then everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the hippo squatting on my head. Or at least, that's what I assumed was happening by the pressure building to a blinding pain between my ears. I took several beats, slowly breathing in and out, willing the hippo to go away before venturing to open my eyes. Then I slowly blinked one, then the other, cringing through the pain.

  It was dark. A faint glow from somewhere just outside my field of vision was the only light illuminating the area. I realized I was outside, a cool breeze whipping over my bare arms and causing me to shiver. It smelled faintly of chlorine, making me think I was near a swimming pool. I could hear sounds in the distance—crickets, far-off music, the rumble of the freeway.

  I blinked a few more times, slowly letting my senses come alive again, and realized I did not, in fact, have a large water mammal on my head, just a really bad headache. I wriggled my hands and fingers, testing out the rest of my body, and quickly realized I didn't have much wiggle room at all. My hands were tied together behind my back. Ditto my feet—bound at the ankles. Whoever had hit me over the head had done a bang-up job of making sure I couldn't respond in kind.