The next set of cages are filled with squirmy insects. I hated when it was my turn to feed them when I was a kid. Bugs and frogs were never my favorite. Give me something soft and furry any day of the week. And it’s unfortunate for those beetles. They’ll be dinner for the frogs at the end of the row any day now.
Wait a minute. What was I just reading in Brittany’s book? About frogs who eat beetles and are poisonous. So poisonous, only a small drop on the tip of a spear could take down their prey! Or maybe a dot on a rose thorn to kill a person?
I take off at a full run toward the stack of books Dylan left on an empty desk. Digging through, I find the science book. “Dylan. I think I know how she did it.” I page through the book as fast as I can to find the illustration I saw earlier.
Emily calls out from the doorway, “Hi, you two.” She crosses the room to her desk and grabs her purse. “What can I help you with?”
Dylan moves to block Emily’s view of me. He says, “Brittany forgot to return her textbooks. Can we leave them with you?”
No. Not yet! I have to find that cave drawing. I’m desperately paging through the book as fast as I can but must’ve missed it. I’ll have to go back to the middle and start again.
Emily says, “Sure. And please tell Brittany I’m sorry to lose her. She was one of my best students. Like you were, Sawyer.” Emily’s footsteps are moving closer. “What are you looking for?”
Finally, I find the drawing. I should respond to Emily, but I’m too busy reading.
Dylan says, “We had a bet. She’s looking up the answer. I don’t know why I bother, though. Sawyer always wins.”
That was an excellent cover. And also true. About the winning part anyway.
“Really?” Emily clears her throat. “What kind of bet?” Her voice has changed from pleasant to mean teacher now.
My eyes fly across the words: The Golden Frog (aka the golden poison frog) fed the right kind of beetles produces a poison (Batrachotoxins). It eats small insects or other arthropods (insect, spider, or crustacean). In today’s use, the toxin that causes paralysis is prepared for medicinal purposes in a highly diluted form. In its full form, the main poison is an alkaloid, which causes paralysis and death, similar to the way strychnine and hemlock do. However, after the respiratory system becomes paralyzed, the heart may continue to beat for some time.
Bingo! And the poison starts with a “B” too, just as Madge thought. Emily must’ve fed the frogs the right kind of beetle to make them secrete the poison. This doesn’t explain why Tina died. But it makes perfect sense if the intended target was Pattie for cheating with Emily’s husband. My uncle must’ve screwed everything up by switching the flowers at the last minute.
But how do I tell Dylan with Emily standing right there?
I glance at Emily, whose eyes are narrowed at me in suspicion. Worse, she has one hand inside her purse.
The perfect place to hide a weapon.
Chapter 18
It’s hard to think when my heart is pumping blood so fast, it makes me dizzy. I don’t know what to do. Should I blurt out I know how Emily did it? And tell Dylan to arrest her? But what if she has a weapon in her purse?
I could ask to borrow a copy machine and show Dylan later, but if she suspects we’re on to her, she could disappear before Dylan can make the arrest. Instead, I shove the hardback book in front of Dylan and say, “See? It’s right here. I told you the most common blood type is O.”
Dylan takes the book, and I point to the part about the frogs.
While Dylan reads, I look up. Emily has a gun pointed in our faces.
“What are you doing?” I stupidly ask as blood pounds in my ears. All I can think is what an idiot plan that had been to shove a book at Dylan, distracting him. This is all my fault.
Emily says. “Don’t move. Or I will shoot.” She points the gun at Dylan. “Sawyer, move slowly toward the door. Now!”
Dylan growls. “Don’t do this, Emily. Drop the gun, and no one gets hurt.” He tosses the book aside but keeps his hands in front of him where Emily can see them.
I don’t know what to do, so I glance at Dylan for guidance, but his eyes are laser focused on Emily.
My mind races with possibilities to get Dylan and me out of this—preferably without bloodshed—as I walk as slowly as I can toward the door.
Without bloodshed? That’s it! I’ll take a page out of my father’s book whenever he sees blood. “I’m not feeling so…” I drop to my knees and then let the rest of me fall to the hard tile floor in a dead faint. I’ve seen my dad do it enough times, so I hope it looked real.
The fall kills my shoulder, but I keep my eyes screwed shut and hope I was enough of a distraction for Dylan to act.
Desks being tossed aside and heavy shoes pounding the tile floor sound before a single loud bang rings out.
Please don’t let Dylan be hurt.
A colossal thump reverberates not far from me, so I sit up and spin my head in its direction. Dylan is on top of a struggling Emily. A gun rests a few feet away. She reaches for it through the blood on the floor beneath
