"No. Just the notebooks. I don't know what happened to the other stuff. And I only took the notebooks because Henry made me."
"How did he do that?" Matt asked.
"Henry is the kind of guy who helps you get into trouble and then blackmails you about what you did," Brooke said. "That's what he did to me. That's why I had to flirt with Landon, try to get him to change their grades, and then steal his notebooks. I don't know what was in them. I just know that Landon was working on something that he was excited about, but he told me he couldn't share it because it could be really important."
"What's happening now?" Matt asked. "Landon died six years ago. But more people are dying now. Why?"
Brooke hesitated. "I can't say anything else. I don't know why that woman in Henry's office died. I don't know why she told you she knew who killed Landon or that Landon had even been murdered. I really did believe it was an accident."
"Did you, Brooke?" she challenged. "You knew the frat was trying to use Landon to change grades, and he didn't want to do it. Why didn't you tell me that after he died?"
"Because Henry had dirt on me, and I couldn't say anything, not that I actually knew anything to say."
"You knew what Henry was doing."
"I only knew he wanted the notebooks; I didn't know why."
"What are they plotting to do now, Brooke?" Matt asked.
"I'm not sure."
"Stop lying," she said forcefully. "I heard you talking to Jill in the locker room. She told you to hang on, that everything will be good, that you're all going to be rich. You have to talk now."
Brooke's lips tightened, then she said, "I gave Jill some money to invest for me. She said it was some kind of secret deal, and we were all going to get rich. But then you showed up asking about Landon, and that woman in Henry's office died, and everyone started acting strangely."
"Who's everyone?" Matt asked.
"Henry, Trent, Drew, Jill…others… Look, I'm not like them. I'm not as rich or as powerful as they are. Jill is my employer. I get paid a salary. I don't have access to the company's finances or Jill's private plans. I just plan events, that's it."
"That's not it," she said. "You stole something from my brother, and you played a part of his death, even if you don't want to say it."
Brooke's face paled. "I can't do this. I have a lawyer. If you want to speak to me again, you'll have to go through him." As soon as she finished speaking, she ran toward her door and slipped inside, disappearing into the stairwell.
"I think we should go after her, make her keep talking," she told Matt, starting toward the door.
"Hang on," he said, putting a hand on her arm. "You know when a subject is done talking, Haley. You're a journalist. You've hit this wall before."
"And it pisses me off every time," she said hotly. She stopped abruptly as a scream pierced the air. "Oh, my God. Is that Brooke?"
They ran into the building and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Another scream echoed through the stairwell, cut short by what sounded like a crash. Matt pulled his gun as they reached the second-floor landing.
The door to apartment 2B was ajar, hanging off one hinge. Through the opening, she could see overturned furniture and Brooke on the floor, blood pooling beneath her.
A figure in dark clothing and a ski mask was rifling through Brooke's purse when Matt pushed the door fully open, his gun drawn.
"Drop the weapon!" Matt ordered.
The man spun around, a bloody knife in his hand. Instead of complying, he lunged toward Matt with surprising speed. Matt fired once as the man charged, but the attacker was already diving low, and the bullet went high, punching into the wall behind him.
The attacker crashed into Matt before he could fire again, driving him backward into the wall. The impact knocked the gun from Matt's hand, sending it skittering across the floor as both men went down hard. The attacker kept hold of his knife, slashing wildly as they wrestled.
She could see Matt grabbing for the man's wrist, trying to control the blade while the attacker fought to drive it toward his throat. They rolled across the floor, crashing into furniture, both grunting with effort.
The gun. She spotted it near the overturned coffee table, maybe ten feet away.If the attacker broke free from Matt...
She ran for it, dropping to her knees and snatching up the weapon just as the two men barreled into the dining table, sending a lamp and picture frames crashing to the ground. The gun was heavier than she'd expected, and her hands were shaking.
"Haley, get out!" Matt shouted between gritted teeth as he blocked the knife from coming down toward his chest.
