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smiled. “Oh, that’s not up to us.”
    Bree didn’t like the snide look on his face. “What do you mean?”
    “The Menlo Park Police Department isn’t holding you under house arrest. That’s by order of your father.”
    Then he pulled the handle, and closed the door in Bree’s face.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
TWELVE
    OLIVIA STRODE OUT ONTO THE QUAD, SQUINTING INTO THE bright sunshine. The weather was warm, but she felt cold and clammy, and the skin on her neck puckered with goose pimples.
    The fear was back.
    She wanted to hide from it, to lock herself away from the killer that stalked DGM, but deep down, she knew that even if she ran forever, she’d never be safe from him.
    Any sense of reprieve, any ideas that the killer had backed off since Bree turned herself in, had vanished in one awful moment. Two simple words glowing on the side of Kitty’s uncle’s warehouse as it burned to the ground. I’m back .
    All of her panic and fear had been reignited in that instant. The killer wasn’t going to leave them alone, wasn’t content with Bree’s confession. He wanted more. He wanted to destroy them.
    They’d fled from the scene of the fire just before the engines arrived. She had no idea what the fire investigators would find, but she hoped rather than believed that there would be some clue to the killer’s identity. He’d meticulously covered his tracks sofar, and there was no reason to think he’d slip up now.
    They only had one course of action: find him before he struck again.
    Olivia took a deep breath, steeling herself for the epic song and dance she was about to perform, and plastered a fake smile on her face as she approached the lunch table where Amber and Jezebel sat. She desperately needed Amber to trust her, and to let her back into the bosom fold of her intimate secrets, if she was going to figure out what happened to the missing Rolex.
    She took a seat across from Jezebel, who was devouring a burrito the size of a log. Beside her, Amber nibbled on a piece of what looked like cardboard. The contrast between the two of them was mesmerizing.
    “So where’s Peanut?” Olivia asked.
    “Purging, I hope,” Amber said, breaking off a teeny bit of what may or may not have been a rice cracker and placing it daintily in her mouth. “I swear that girl has put on five pounds in the last week.”
    “You didn’t tell her that, did you?” Olivia asked, horrified. Nothing would send Peanut down the path to full-blown anorexia faster than Amber telling her she looked fat.
    “Of course I did,” Amber said with a toss of her hair. “That’s what friends do.”
    Jezebel devoured the last morsel of bean and cheese tortilla and nodded. “Friends know when to tell friends they have a problem.”
    “We have a certain reputation to maintain,” Amber continued. She held her head high, like a queen at a coronation. “Peoplelook up to us, and we need to act like we deserve it.”
    From the table behind them, a group of guys burst out laughing. Olivia turned to find Rex and his ’Maine Men posse mimicking Amber’s regal stance.
    “You’re better off without Rex,” Olivia said, as she watched Amber’s mask of indifference falter.
    Jezebel ferretted a Clif Bar out of her bag. “He was getting you into some shady shit.”
    Shady shit? That sounded promising. “Really?” Olivia asked with wide-eyed innocence. “Like what?”
    “Nothing,” Amber snapped.
    Jezebel’s eyebrows shot up. “But what about the night—”
    Amber elbowed Jezebel in the ribs. “I said, nothing.”
    “Ow.” Jezebel rubber her abdomen. “Fine. Nothing.”
    Dammit. She was so close.
    The conversation dropped and Olivia was just about to open with the non sequitur, “Doesn’t your dad own a Rolex?” when something on the other side of the quad caught her eye. John Baggott, standing near the science building, waving his