Blend

27:00 | majority rule

MY EYES bug out. And I run Peewee's words back over again in my mind. "Seriously?"

"What?" Ace asks, confused.

"And why do you think that?" I continue. "He was at the party?"

Peewee sighs again. "No. But I think he might've hired someone who posed as a college student and got out before the cops showed. It would explain why I don't remember him."

Shit, I can't even fathom. "Peewee, I...I...you really think he'd kill you?"

"Who's she talking about?" Ace tries again.

"Because I embarrass the shit out of him and he wants to run for president one day? I don't know, Dev. We never got along. I can't remember a single time he was ever proud of me or genuinely showed affection."

My heart sinks into my stomach. Of course, my dad and I have had our disagreements, but I can't imagine him orchestrating my death.

"I don't even know what to say."

Peewee finishes her other braid and looks at me with a false cheerfulness. "It's not your fault my dad would rather rid himself of me than give up his career ambitions."

I scoff, incredulous. The way she says it.

"What is she saying?" Ace asks, drumming his fingers against the armrest impatiently. After I explain everything to him, his eyes round with horror. "For real? Her own dad? Damn."

"I guess it explains why Mr. Adams is pressuring the police to close the case," I say with a wince. Now that the thought is out of my head, it sounds so callous. Even for a politician.

But Peewee nods in agreement. "Yep. Another red flag."

"Damn," Ace repeats, cradling his head. "This is a lot. Who do we look into first?"

I turn to Peewee. "What's your gut say?"

She pauses, frowning. "I try so hard to remember that night but I can only remember little fractured pieces. Like a broken mirror on the floor."

I relay what she says to Ace who nods. "Makes sense. When Crawley was questioning me, he asked how I drugged her."

Peewee and I share a look, stunned. The news hadn't released that.

"I was drugged?"

"She was drugged?"

"As far as I know. The killer slipped her something before he got her alone in the bathroom. It's also how they think I—" he hesitates, drawing in a frustrated breath, "...how they think I raped her."

Peewee explodes to her feet. "The killer didn't rape me—that much I know! The cops just think Ace did because they're racist pricks. But if I was drugged, that explains why I could barely fight my killer off."

I look at Ace. "Just so you know, Peewee is very adamant she wasn't raped. The cops have to be running that theory to paint your motive. Otherwise, what other reason would you have to kill her? So they need to do you dirty just like they did Emmett Till to justify coming after you."

"Emmett Till?"

"Boy, why don't you know your history? I. Can't. Even." I roll my eyes.

Peewee circles the table, murmuring events of that night, ignoring us. I watch her until an IG alert catches my attention.

"Aww."

"What now?" Peewee groans.

"Nah, this is good. ASU is holding a candlelight service for you tomorrow night at the Student Union."

"As they should," Ace says, leaning to see.

Peewee races over with her mouth agape. At first I'm concerned I've broken her. She goes completely still as she reads the digital flier with her graduation photo, detailing the candlelight service in her honor. But then a deep smirk stretches out on her smooth pale cheek.

"We have to go, Devyn. All three of them will be there."

"What?" My heart skips a beat.

"My dad will be there because he needs people to see him grieving and it'll be free publicity. Jackson and Anakin will be there because they knew me. And I need to be there to scan their hands for my bite. If the guys don't have it, then we'll investigate my dad. But if one of them does have it, my DNA will speak for itself and Ace can stop running from the law."

"Oh God." I sit back, instantly feverish. "We're really doing this. We're catching a murderer."

"Says the girl sitting on the couch with Arizona's Most Wanted." Peewee holds up her hands with a pouty lip. "Come on, Dev. We need to go."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Ace asks, eyebrows up.

"She wants to go to the candlelight service. The guy who really killed her will have a bite mark on his thumb."

Ace rubs his hands together. "Shit, I'm in."

I chuckle until I realize he's serious. "What?!"

"Devyn, I'm not letting you confront a murderer alone," Ace says. "Plus, if he's there, we'll call the cops and get this all sorted out. I want this over more than anything."

Peewee clears her throat. "My point exactly."

I blink at her and then Ace. "No, absolutely not. It's too risky! We don't even know if Jackson and Anakin will show. And I'm sorry Peewee, but I'm still having a difficult time believing your own father did this."

Ace shakes his head. "Peewee's right. We have to start somewhere. And I'm not letting you go there alone. I'll wear a hood and keep my head down. The first sign of trouble, we leave."

"I agree," Peewee says. "Majority rule."

I sink back into the couch, beside myself. "I don't like this."

Ace folds his hand over mine. "I can't just sit here while you risk your life for me."

"But—"

"Look, we barely know each other, and honestly, this ghost shit is wild, but you'll need protecting so this ain't even up for debate."

My stomach flips into gold-medal cartwheels. Despite knowing how wrong it is to let Ace come, I melt into the stupidest grin at his words.

Sensing my concession, Peewee squeezes her ghostly form between Ace and me on the couch. She hums the Star Wars theme song in my ear as if my life isn't weird enough.

Then my eyes lock on Ace's, his hand still warm over mine. It's then I know that I'll do anything—confront any monster—to protect him, too.