“Would you be willing to let me see your texts?” she asked.

He paused for the barest of moments. “They’ll look like gibberish to you. I know my father absolutely hates it when I abbreviate, the language we use. He thinks it represents the decline of modern society. But the smart keyboard makes it so much easier to talk quickly.”

“I can’t say I disagree with your father there. My computer expert is pretty handy with all things technical. He should be able to translate for us. Tell me how you heard about Xander.”

Theo squirmed in his seat. He’d paled when she mentioned Lincoln’s expertise, and she knew he was hiding something.

“Theo?”

His eyes filled with tears. “I think I talked to him right before he died.”

“You do? Why is that?”

Theo went from a prepossessed young man to a child in an instant, face screwed up in an attempt not to start weeping. She gave him a few breaths to get back under control.

“It’s okay, Theo. We’re just talking. You’re not in trouble, not unless you had something to do with the murders.”

“God, no. Of course I didn’t. You can’t actually think that.”

“Then relax. I just want to know what happened this afternoon.”

“Are you going to tell my parents what I say?”

“Are you eighteen?” He nodded. “Then so long as you haven’t broken any laws, I see no need to divulge the information. Just tell me the truth, okay? We’ll get along much better if you tell me the truth.”

Theo looked miserable for a moment. “Ah, jeez. Okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to swear not to tell anyone I did. Promise?”

“I’ll do my best,” she said.

“Okay. Xander.. .he and Mandy were partying this afternoon. So were Jerry and the girls. Of course, Chelsea and Rachel weren’t exactly known for their restraint,” he spit out.

“Partying?” Marcus asked.

“Drugs. Getting geared up for tonight, for the party.”

“What kind of drugs?”

Theo stood and went to his father’s desk. He flicked back the leather blotter and drew out another key. Taylor watched him, tense. She didn’t like people going into locked drawers in her presence. But Marcus sidled behind Theo, and she relaxed a fraction.

Theo slid open the top drawer, pulled out a Ziploc baggie. It was full of pastel-blue and yellow pills the size of aspirin. There had to be a hundred, maybe a hundred fifty pills in the bag. He handed it to her gingerly.

“Holy mother…what is all this?” She saw the stamps, hearts, on some of the outward facing pills. Just like the ones they’d seen in Amanda Vanderwood’s room. “Ecstasy?”

“Yeah.” Theo sat on the sofa again, his head in his hands.

“Were you dealing it? Is that why you have so much?”

“No. God, no. I’m no dealer. That’s everyone’s.”

“What do you mean, everyone’s?”

Taylor sank back into the chair opposite Theo. He looked at her, gave her a half smile. “Jeez, I’m gonna get creamed for this.”

“Start talking, Mr. Howell.” Now that he’d made up his mind to cooperate, the words flowed easily. “It’s all from Vi-Fri. Vicodin Fridays. Every Friday the kids who party get their drugs, usually on the bus on the way home or in our lockers after sixth period. We never know what it’s going to be, it’s kinda like a lottery. The first time it was Vicodin-that’s where the name came from. But it can be anything-mushrooms, X, oxy, Valium, meth, coke, even. Whatever he’s got to sell. You can’t tell our parents. They’ll never understand.”

Taylor couldn’t believe she was hearing this. Not that there was a bunch of high school idiots doing drugs- cocaine had been the drug of choice when she was in high school. With affluent parents and heavy allowances, it was always readily available. But the fact that a group was taking whatever they could get their hands on, that’s what surprised her.

“Who is the dealer?”

“This punk-ass underclassman. I don’t know his real name. He calls himself something stupid, like out of a comic book. Starts with a T. Thor, I think. He started at Hillsboro this year-word got out he was dealing his second week. He’s got good shit, clean and cheap. Everyone buys from him.”

“Who might know his real name?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. Some of the younger kids might. But they’re not here. We were just supposed to be juniors and seniors tonight, maybe the odd sophomore. This kid is a freshman, and I’ve tried to keep myself away from it. I’m not a big fan of Vi-Fri.”

Taylor shook the plastic bag. “Would you be able to identify him if we showed you pictures? Or would he be in the yearbook?”

“He wouldn’t be in it yet. Y m on the yearbook staff, and we haven’t gotten the class pictures yet. I won’t have any way to know if his was in it or not until next semester when the company that does the portraits sends us the proofs. Besides, half the people don’t show for their pictures. Yearbook is considered passe.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Short. Blond hair. He hangs with the Goth kids.”

“So let me get this straight. Did you take this bag off the dealer?”

“No. See, I was talking to Xander. He said he and Mandy were going to do a couple of hits early, fool around before the party. They’d be over after so we could all get ready. We got off the phone and I started getting things set up. Then my sister, Daisy, got a text from Letha King. Jerry’s sister.”

“We met her at the Kings’ house this afternoon.”

“Well, Letha said she’d come home and Jerry was passed out in his room, was blue. He had some sort of wound in his stomach. She didn’t know what to do. So we went over there-“

Marcus leaned forward in his chair, jumped in. “You were at the Kings’ house this afternoon?”

“Just for a few minutes.”

“Oh, Lord,” Taylor groaned. “Who else was there? And what did you touch?”

“Nothing. It was just me and Daisy and Letha, I swear. Letha was totally freaking out. I looked at Jerry, I didn’t touch him. He had that crazy star carved in his stomach, he looked totally dead. It looked like he’d OD’d. I told her to call 911 and we hightailed it out of there. I started calling around to everyone, told them not to take their X.”

“What time was this?” Taylor asked.

“Probably around three. Let me look, I can tell you exactly when she sent the text.” He fiddled with his phone. “Two-fifty. I called Xander, but he didn’t answer. Letha let Daisy know the cops had shown up, and everyone started filing in over here. They brought their stash, and I put it all together.”

“You showed quite a clear head, Theo.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t know what the fuck-pardon, ma’am-what the hell happened. That carving in Jerry’s stomach freaked me out.”

Marcus took the Ziploc bag, turned it over and over in his hands. The pills inside clinked together softly. Still playing with the bag, he raised his eyebrow and spoke.

“Theo, there’s more, isn’t there? You can tell us. You’ve told us almost everything anyway. We understand what you were doing, and I have to tell you, man, I’m damn impressed. You showed a great deal of maturity and bravery here today. But there’s something you aren’t sharing with us.”

He shook his head, eyes miserable. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve told you everything I know.”

“No, you haven’t. You automatically assumed the Ecstasy was the culprit, that the kids who were murdered had taken it. You said you thought Jerry had OD’d. Why would you draw that conclusion?”

Theo scuffed his foot into the deep burgundy Aubusson rug. He was wearing Doc Marten boots, which didn’t quite fit with his preppy exterior. They let him have a moment. There were answers to be found here.

Theo cleared his throat, but the words came out in a whisper.

“We might have heard that someone was planning to screw with us.”

“Screw with who?”

Theo rounded his hand in a circle. “Us. The jocks. The cool kids. The popular ones. Whatever ridiculous cliche you want to call us. We were the target, and whoever did this got us good.”