Chapter 10: The Murder Board

"Where's the fire?" my mother asked, as I dashed to my room.

"Lots of homework." Technically that wasn't a lie, I did have tons of homework, I just didn't plan on doing it. The murder mystery was more important. Who cared about homework in a post-Asher world anyway?

I dialled the number Chrissie had given me.

"Hello." The phone was picked up on the first ring.

"James. Hi, it's Madelyn," I replied, trying to sound friendly.

"Hi Madelyn." James Swenlow unsuccessfully tried to hide the surprise in his voice.

"Can we meet?" I asked, not wanting to give anything away over the phone.

I put the phone down and sighed, relieved that James had agreed to meet with me. But the soonest he could do was Wednesday, and today was only Monday.

My room was just neat enough to show that I cared a little bit about not having dust bunnies, but untidy enough to show I was creative in the way I strung things. The walls were pink because even though I might not act like it all the time, I am a girl. Above my bed a tree was painted with purple blossoms to show the beauty of nature. There were clothes that I hadn't bothered to put away strewn over my cabinet. I also had a picture of Asher on my nightstand, but I preferred not to look at it all that much anymore; it caused too much pain.

I picked up all my sticky notes and stuck them on my wall. It looked like a work of art that was made by a person who no artistic talent. Three small yellow cubes with a pastel pink background. The soft colours fit together perfectly, almost as if it had been planned.

I ravaged in my wooden cabinet and found a thick roll of violet hair ribbon. It wasn't red string, like what the private detectives use, but it would have to do. I connected the sticky notes to each other. I knew there should be some method to the purple connections, and when I had more information I would figure out what got connected to what. For now everything was connected to everything.

Wednesday seemed like a really long time away, I suppose I could have worked on the English project with Caspian, but being a detective was so much more fun; as nerdish as that sounded.

My eyes fell on the fourth sticky note. It lay in a crumpled ball at the bottom of my bag. I smiled to myself. I think I just found my work for the next few days. Principal Hugh's suicide, that wasn't a suicide. Ok, it might have been a suicide; but why would I want to look into why he committed suicide? 'Why' wasn't half as interesting as 'if'.

My phone beeped. I picked it up and saw it was a message from an unknown number.

'If I was outside your window, would you let me in?'

The only person I knew who didn't say 'Hi' to me anymore was Chrissie. She probably got a new number.

I didn't get to reply, before someone knocked on my window.

It wasn't Chrissie. Caspian's blue eyes glowed with amusement as he took in my shocked expression.

He waved and gestured to me to open the window.

I slid the bottom of the window up.

"I thought you were busy." Caspian pulled his body onto the window ledge and slipped into my room.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Visiting." Caspian winked.

"You never visited before," I commented.

"Because I knew your brother would beat the crap out of me." The familiar ache surfaced. It only happened when anyone mentioned Asher.

He picked up the roll of ribbon on my bed. "I never took you for a hair ribbon kind of girl."

I wasn't. My mother bought me that ribbon because she thought it was cute, but I wasn't going to tell Caspian that. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"But that's going to change." Caspian gave me a lopsided smile.

"Please leave," I pleaded, walking over to him. "I'm busy."

'Sticking notes on the wall." Caspian took the crumpled sticky note out of my hand. I tried not to react as his fingers brushed mine.

I grabbed his wrist and tried to take the yellow piece of paper back, but he switched hands and held the note up in the air.

"Face it, you're too short, Mads," Caspian teased.

'Mads'? Who did he think he was? Only Asher called me 'Mads'. I wasn't going to call him out on it, it wasn't really worth it. But getting the sticky note back was.

"Please," I begged as I tried being nice. If he read what was on the sticky note, he would think I'm a psychopath. I was a psychopath, but that's not something he needed to know.

Caspian jumped onto my bed. I winced as I realised he hadn't even bothered taking off his shoes. Who needed the sandman when muddy shoes could turn my sleeping place into a sand bath?

He opened up the paper and raised his eyebrows. "Why are you interested in Hugh's suicide?" Caspian inquired. "The man was a tyrant."

How could I explain this without giving too much away?

When I didn't reply, Caspian went over to my murder board. He read everything silently in his head. Just from the expression on his face I could tell he was very confused.

Before he could draw his own conclusions, I told him the truth. "I'm trying to figure out who killed my brother."

"Wait, I thought he committed suicide." Any other time I would have laughed at how big Caspian's eyes were, but this was a very serious matter.

"We don't know that," I told him.

"The suicide letter," Caspian said.

"Yeah, but..." Wait, what.? "How did you know about that?" I swallowed the bile that rose up.

"Victoria Herim," Caspian replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How did she know?"

"The sheriff probably told her," Caspian shrugged.

"He said he didn't tell anyone." I grabbed another sticky note.

"So now we're playing the Secret Seven?' Caspian asked.

"Not we, just me," I clarified.

Caspian ignored my comment. "I told you the Stingers are dangerous," he fumed, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to face him.

"You're also a Stinger," I fired back.

"Who says I'm not dangerous?"

I didn't have a good enough reply for that.

"Your brother committed suicide, let it be." His voice softened.

"No!" I yelled back, shoving him towards the window.

"Even though this is a wild goose chase, you'll need my help to not get killed."

"Thank, but no thanks."

"I wasn't asking," Caspian swept my hair out of my face. He tilted his head towards me and smirked.

"Unlike other girls, I'm immune to your charisma," I lied, admitting only to myself that I was probably the least immune to his charms. My heart thumped loudly, and I hoped he couldn't hear it. "You should leave."

"What charisma?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"The one that makes girls fall down at your feet," I gestured towards the open window, willing him to leave.

"I thought that was a disease going around," he joked.

"It's worse." I practically shoved him towards the window.

"Meet me in the library before school," he commanded, climbing out of the window. He didn't even wait for me to reply.  

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