Beneath Her Skin Gregg Olsen (good books to read .txt) 📖

which were always signed LOL. Beth didn’t have the heart to tell her it did not mean Lots Of Love.

Be home late tonight. You’ll have to make your own dinner. Lol. Mom.

She’d moved on to Instagram when Hayley arrived.

“Where’s the other one of you?” Beth asked.

“Maybe Taylor’s in the bathroom?” Hayley guessed. “I don’t know.”

Beth held out her phone. “Who is Moira Windsor?”

Hayley looked on and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of her.”

“Says she’s a friend of yours; she’s following me.”

Taylor joined them.

“Who is Moira Windsor?” Beth asked her.

Taylor shook her head. “Dunno.”

Beth looked at the twins. “Do you two always say the same thing?”

Hayley laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. “No, and no, we don’t know her.”

By then Taylor was looking at her Instagram account.

“Get this,” she said. “This Moira person says she’s following me because she’s your friend.”

The three girls looked at each other.

“Stalker!” they all said in unison.

Beth put her phone back into her purse.

“Hey, that was cool,” she said. “This time I got to say the same thing. Someone’s rubbing off on someone.” She let a beat pass. “Not sure I like that.”

Hayley and Taylor didn’t say anything more about Moira as they peeled off in different directions for their respective classes. Taylor had art, Hayley had life science and Beth was toying with getting out of PE because it was table tennis and she felt it would be racist to make her participate. She hated to sweat, and the excuse seemed a plausible way to get out of suiting up.

Forcing me to play because I’m Asian is offensive, she imagined herself saying to the coach, a nice woman who never offended anyone.

Kim Lee would be mortified by her daughter’s actions, and Beth would pretend to sulk after she got a talking-to.

Her mom might notice her then. That would be good. It was all she really wanted.

Hayley and Taylor knew Moira’s name. They’d heard their father talking to their mother in the living room again about the pushy reporter, but it was a conversation that ended abruptly when they approached.

What was that all about?

Chapter Twenty-One

Number 19 was eerily quiet. For a change, their father’s sometimes-jackhammer snoring couldn’t be heard. Hayley and Taylor had talked through the outlet about what they were thinking and feeling. Not surprisingly, Katelyn remained heavy on their minds. She was probably in the thoughts of many in Port Gamble before they slept. Those who were religious likely included Katelyn and the Berkleys in their prayers. All wondered just how it was that a girl could die in a bathtub with a household appliance as her killer.

Hayley and Taylor went to sleep hoping that a clue would come to them.

Something did.

Taylor’s last thoughts before slumber were pleas to whomever or whatever controlled her dreams to let Katelyn come to her.

Then she was in the corner of Katelyn’s bedroom, watching, feeling all that was happening.

The illumination from the laptop’s screen sent a cool white spray of light over her face as Katelyn sat on her bed, hoping for more conversation with the boy she was falling hard for. She wasn’t disappointed. The chat window was open for only a second before he appeared online to talk.

Cullant: why won’t u meet me?

She took a second before answering. Being too quick would signal desperation.

Katiebug: cause i don’t know who u r.

His typing was slow as he hunted and pecked his way across the keyboard, stopping, correcting.

Cullant: that’s the point in meeting someone.

Katelyn was nearly sixteen. She was nobody’s fool. But she was undeniably lonely.

Katiebug: thx for the nice things you’ve said. But 4 all i know, you are some old man in port orchard & u get your rocks off by going after teen grls.

Cullant: lol. That’s good. Like i’ve ever been to port orchard.

Katiebug: k. That was a low blow. LoL.

Cullant: a perv is fine, but port orch? Ur hitting below the belt.

Katelyn laughed; it wasn’t an LOL, but an actual genuine laugh. She liked this guy. Whoever he was. She needed someone to like. She’d felt so abandoned, so lost. Nothing had been going right. Her grades had slipped precipitously from the year before. It was as if she’d been free-falling and there was nothing to land on. And as lame as it was, she felt her only hope was the guy on the other side of her computer screen.

Katiebug: when ru sending a pic?

Cullant: what kind of pic do u want?

Katiebug: now u really r beng a perv. U know, the kind u might give your mother.

A short pause was followed with some more typing.

Cullant: k. Just so happens i took a new 1 today. Here it comes.

She waited for the image to upload in the window of her messenger app. One pixel at a time. The wait was excruciating.

Katelyn’s eyes lingered over the photo as it came into crisp view. It was a casual shot, not of the quality pulled from some male model site on the Net. The boy had dark hair, blue eyes. Hot.

Katiebug: that’s u?

Cullant: yup. That’s me. U like?

Katiebug: if dat’s really u, i do.

Cullant: it’s me.

Katelyn knew there were other stupid girls out there who’d fall for some Internet guy, but she wasn’t that type of a girl. Even if she was, even if she allowed herself a little fantasy, it was something that she needed right then. She wanted the attention of someone special because she no longer felt special herself.

Katiebug: let’s talk tomorrow.

Cullant: K.

Katiebug: bye.

Cullant: TTFN.

Katelyn set down her phone. She went into her bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror in a way a stranger might: critically, with an eye to pick her apart in the meanest way possible. She wasn’t really fat. She had good skin. Her hair was cute. Cute-ish, anyway. When she really processed what she saw in her reflection, she knew that she should feel better about herself. But she just couldn’t get there. She could blame it on any number of things—her