Deadly Cool by Gemma Halliday Read Free Book Online

grasped my hand and shook.
    “Deal.”

FIVE
    HAVING SEALED MY FATE, FOR BETTER OR WORSE, WE got right to the point of us being at Chase’s in the first place—the photos Chase was taking outside yesterday afternoon and whether or not they contained evidence of the murderer’s identity.
    “Can we see them?” I asked.
    “Why?” he countered.
    “We figure Courtney must have been killed between two thirty and three fifteen,” Sam explained. “Which leaves a small window of opportunity for her killer. If you were taking pictures then, you might have caught something to help identify him.”
    He nodded. “I brought my camera out just after school. Some guy rear-ended me last week. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have some photographic evidence of the damage. I was mostly taking close-ups, but you can have a look at them. Come on in.”
    I hesitated. Something about crossing the threshold felt a little like walking into the lion’s den. But, if I wanted to help Josh, I figured Chase was the tamest of the lions I was going to encounter. Besides, we were partners now, right? So I stepped through the doorway a beat after Sam.
    The two of us followed Chase into a living room furnished startlingly like my own. A wood entertainment center, housing a pre-HD TV, sat against one wall. A lived-in sofa and love seat combo were situated in front of it for max viewing pleasure. To the right a kitchen tiled in baby blue was just visible beyond an oak dinette set. All standard suburban issue.
    We followed Chase up the stairs and to the left, down a short hallway with three rooms branching off. Chase ushered us into the second one on the right, pushing open a white wooden door with a “Keep Out” sign on it.
    Here the decor was much more teen angst than happy homemaker, making it clear that Chase’s mom did, in fact, adhere to the sign on the door. The walls were painted in black, creating a cavelike effect. A fuzzy black blanket covered the bed, and a closet full of black clothes spanned the back wall, shirts and jeans dangling askew on overburdened hangers. On the walls were posters of bands I’d never heard of, their singers’ tongues protruding, war paint on their faces, fake blood dripping from their mouths. Charming.
    One window faced south, a pair of dark curtains pulled shut. Black ones. (Gee, what a surprise.) It was nearing noon outside, but in here it was midnight. I squinted in the darkness, feeling my pupils enlarge to find some little pinpoint of light to glom onto.
    A gunmetal gray desk sat in the corner. Strewn across its top were a laptop, a digital camera, and a collection of different lenses. Chase went straight to the desk, flipping open his laptop.
    “Have a seat. This will just take a minute,” Chase offered.
    I looked around. A desk chair littered with black clothes sat to one side. Beside it a wooden folding chair piled high with school textbooks. Which just left the bed. I scooted a couple pillows aside and gingerly perched on the edge.
    Or tried to gingerly perch on the edge.
    The second my butt hit the fuzzy black blanket, I sank down half a dozen inches, the mattress wobbling like I’d planted myself on Jell-O.
    “Whoa!” Sam said, mirroring my own surprise as she sat beside me. “Water bed.”
    “Nice, huh?” Chase asked over his shoulder.
    “Fab.” I felt my cheeks go warm, trying not to think about the kind of action that went on in a bed like this, and scooted closer to the edge.
    I struggled to maintain a vertical position, swaying next to Sam, as I watched Chase click away on his computer. Soon, an array of thumbnails filled the screen, showing his dented bumper from fifteen different angles. Most were indeed close-ups, displaying bashed-in chrome and a crushed taillight, but a few caught a glimpse of the street beyond in the background.
    “Can you make those bigger?” I asked, pointing to a couple where I could almost make out the corner of Josh’s house.
    “I can do anything you