Marianna could feel Alna tense just before a voice rang out.

“Hey!” It sounded like a man. “What are you two doing?”

The voice sounded close enough to be in Ms. Smith’s backyard. Almost immediately, Marianna’s pulse skyrocketed, her eyes widening. On instinct, she stood and whipped around to face the voice. Oh, crap. There was indeed a man standing in Ms. Smith’s backyard, his weathered face settled into a deep scowl. If possible, Alna became even more tense. Marianna thought she might have cursed; she was certain she heard the word “stupid” at one point.

Alna stood up, obstructing Marianna’s view as she stood in front of her. Marianna shifted to the side so she could see the man before them.

“Um,” Alna began, sounding nervous in a way Marianna could only recall her sounding on one other occasion. Was it real or was Alna acting again? “We were just––”

“Damn kids,” the man said, his scowl only deepening. “Can’t you leave people in peace?”

The man couldn’t have been over forty, with tanned skin and a shaved head. Going by his near bulging biceps, Marianna felt it was safe to assume this man was either a bodybuilder or did a lot of heavy lifting.

And he was glaring at her and Alna as though he had caught them committing some heinous crime. Marianna felt a shiver go down her spine.

“We’re sorry, sir.” Alna’s voice sounded meek. That was new. Manipulative, withdrawn, kind, aloof, and beautiful were all words Marianna would attribute to Alna.

Meek? Submissive? Those were two words that Marianna, in the short time she’d known her, had never applied to Alna. She must be acting.

It was that last thought that spurred Marianna to action. Stepping around Alna, Marianna clasped her hands in front of her as she said, “It’s not what it looks––”

Marianna had no idea what she planned to say. How could she explain why two teenage girls were trespassing on someone’s property? There was no plausible explanation she could come with that didn’t make them look bad.

She didn’t have to, anyway. It was at that moment she heard being opened and mere moments later, Ms. Smith herself appeared, looking bewildered as she looked between the man and her and Alna. A bit wildly, Marianna thought her hair looked like fire.

“Ethan?” Ms. Smith asked, choosing to address who she was familiar with. “What’s going on here?”

The man who she’d been threatening mere minutes ago was nowhere to be seen, Marianna noted with some concern. Had Ms. Smith done something to him? They would have heard something if that was the case. Right?

Marianna tuned out as the man (Ethan) explained that he had noticed “these two hooligans” trespassing on her lawn. Ms. Smith didn’t look like a killer. She was almost the exact opposite of what Marianna would expect a killer to look like. From the way she couldn’t seem to keep still (shifting her weight and playing with a lock of hair), Ms. Smith didn’t have… What was it? The confidence? The charisma? Either way, she didn’t seem to have the demeanor of a murderer.

“Would you like me to call the cops for you?” Ethan finished, sending another spike of fear through Marianna.

It was then that Ms. Smith truly looked at them. She surveyed Alna and Marianna, hands twisting as she did so. There was a dent between her eyebrows, and she looked either contemplative or confused. Marianna wasn’t sure which.

A light breeze in the air blew Ms. Smith’s shawl behind her, the grey fabric with pink swirls fluttering. Besides that, Ms. Smith wore a simple pair of jeans and black flip-flops. She grabbed one corner of the shawl, playing with it in what seemed to be an absent-minded gesture. Her eyes darted to the partially open window, and Marinna could practically see the gears working in her mind, wondering if they had heard anything. She turned back to Ethan.

“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Some of her hair blew into her face. Ms. Smith tucked it back. “You know how teenagers are these days; always getting into trouble.” This last part was said in a light, cheerful voice.

And then, like the flick of a switch, the slight smile Ms. Smith had been wearing widened, showing more pearly white teeth. She reminded Marianna of a shark. Unwillingly, Marianna’s mind went to the movie Jaws, which she had watched with her friends, once.

“What were you doing in my yard, anyway?” Ms. Smith asked. Her voice practically dripped sugar, but the underlying threat was obvious to anyone who paid attention.

Did this man know? Marianna wondered. Did he know that Ms. Smith had a history of violence? All the therapy she’d gone through?

That she had almost beaten a girl to death in high school, and somehow convinced people (for a time) that the poor girl had fallen down the stairs?

Out of the corner of her eye, Marianna saw Alna’s jaw tighten.

Ethan either didn’t hear the threat, or he chose to ignore it, because he stood his ground without flinching. “Just thought I’d come over and check on things. Make sure you’re okay.”

Despite her nerves at the situation, Marianna could feel her eyebrows rise. That was either very kind of Ethan or boldly inconsiderate.

The switch flipped again, and Ms. Smith’s became rigid, all traces of good humor gone.

“Well,” Ms. Smith began, still fidgeting, “as you can see, I’m fine. Kindly get off my property.” As if to emphasize her point, Ms. Smith’s hands stilled for a moment, before she resumed her fidgeting.

A strange moment passed. Ethan and Ms. Smith locked eyes. Marianna wasn’t sure what passed between the adults at that moment, but she knew it was nothing good. Whatever occurred, it resulted in Ethan turning to leave, looking none too happy as he muttered to himself.

Ms. Smith watched him go. Marianna shifted closer to Alna.

It was then that Ms. Smith gave them her full attention. Alna stiffened at that, although it was only noticeable to someone standing right next to her. For one, wild moment, Marianna wondered if they could get away with making a run for it. But of course, that wouldn’t work.

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Alna took a step forward, still sounding anxious as she said, “We’re sorry we troubled you, miss.” Alna swiped her hands on her jeans, and Marianna found herself admiring Alna’s ability to step into any role she chose.

Her nerves still hadn’t calmed down. There was a prickle of sweat on the back of her neck.

The look Ms. Smith gave Alna was somewhere between thoughtful and unfocused, as if her mind was on something else. She crossed her arms, strands of red hair blowing into her face. Ms. Smith pushed them away before crossing her arms again.

“My neighbor,” Ms. Smith said, a flicker of annoyance passing over her face, “has a point, though. What are you doing in my yard?”

Once more, she looked over at the open window, leaving Marianna to wonder if the man she had been talking to was, indeed, dead.

Perhaps Marianna was being paranoid. There hadn’t been that much of a time gap between Ethan showing up and Ms. Smith coming outside. Besides, why would she kill someone in her own house? That didn’t seem to fit.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Marianna jumped in. She nearly flinched under Ms. Smith’s searching look but restrained herself. “My cat escaped about a half-hour ago, and with all the traffic around, I was worried he’d get hurt. My”––here, she got a little tongue-tied, uncertain what to call Alna––”friend has been helping me, and we’ve sort of been chasing him all over.”

Alna gave no visible reaction, other than to nod along, leaving Marianna to wonder if she approved of the explanation or not.

Ms. Smith frowned. The wind had picked up in the last couple of minutes, pressing her shawl against her front, offering a faint outline of slender hips.

“Really.” Ms. Smith didn’t sound like she believed them. “And you weren’t here to, I don’t know, spray paint my house?”

This time, instead of looking at the window, she glared at some point on the exterior of the house. Marianna looked over, noticing for the first time the faint traces of blue peeking out under the white paint. It looked as though Ms. Smith had tried to paint over it but hadn’t quite hidden whatever had been there previously.

“Of course not,” Alna said, sounding scandalized. She was wearing an expression of complete bewilderment, wide eyes and all. Her voice turned earnest. “We really were chasing a cat, miss.” At that, Alna directed her eyes to the fence to their left, which showed signs of age in the scratches, with its colourless appearance, and the way it seemed to lean towards its owner’s yard. If it leaned any further, it would start pulling out of the ground soon. “Looks like he got away again, though.” A dent appeared between Alna’s brows at that, making her look worried and disappointed at the same time.

“Oh.” Ms. Smith sounded sympathetic. She stepped forward, peering at the fence as if searching for this mystical cat. Turning back to her and Alna, looking genuine in her worry, Ms. Smith said, “I could always call my neighbors; ask if they’ve seen anything?”

A killer who cared about animals? Wasn’t that a bit of a paradox? Unless she was as good at acting as Alna.

“That’s not necessary,” Alna said. The usually cool, smooth tone she used with some people was all but nonexistent at the moment, which rattled Marianna a bit. She was beginning to feel like a third wheel in some bizarre non-date.

“He’s my responsibility, anyway,” Marianna butted in, pasting a sheepish look on her face. “But we appreciate the offer.”

Ms. Smith didn’t look convinced. Her eyes narrowed, revealing the glittery gold eyeshadow on her lids that Marianna hadn’t noticed before. It sparkled in the sunlight, and for one terrifying moment, Marianna was convinced Ms. Smith knew their real reason for being in her yard. How could she not? The timing, their placement, was too convenient for anything else. Ms. Smith would be right to suspect––

Alna pinched her on the wrist. Not enough to cause Marianna any real pain, but enough to calm her down. To focus her attention.

“If you’re sure.” Ms. Smith sounded reluctant. She began twisting a vivid red strand around her finger, continuing to eye her and Alna with uncertainty.

Marianna forced a pleasant look on her face. “I am––well, we are,” she replied. “But thank you.”

Once more, Ms. Smith’s constant fidgeting seemed to still, if only for a moment. And then she flashed them a quick, sympathetic smile. “Well, then, good luck to you.”

“Thank you,” Alna said, her voice calm.

With that over, the girls passed Ms. Smith, who stepped aside to let them go, still watching them carefully. They headed for the back alley, a few fallen leaves crunching underfoot.

Thank God that was over, Marianna thought as they stepped onto the gravel. She could have sworn she’d almost had a heart––

“Before you go,” Ms. Smith’s voice called from behind them.

Marianna’s heart thudded against her ribcage. She fought to keep herself composed as she and Alna turned around. She couldn’t recall being this nervous around Harlow Ashworth. However, that “investigation” had been under much more controlled circumstances. And Marianna hadn’t been talking to a killer that time.

Now that she was standing out in the open, Ms. Smith’s hair was blowing around wildly, reminding Marianna of a flickering flame. The woman in question tried to push the hair away from her face, only for it to whip into her eyes once more. Holding the fiery locks back with two hands, Ms. Smith squinted at them through the wind. Leaves ranging from brown, green, and orange blew past her worn sneakers.

“Do you mind if I ask for your names?” Ms. Smith asked. Marianna was surprised her voice didn’t get lost in the wind. “It seems only fair.” Ms. Smith offered a smile that looked sheepish. “Considering you did trespass on my lawn.”

Marianna’s heart sped up but she composed herself. She and Alna had discussed this.

“Ilene Dyson.” Alna didn’t miss a beat.

Quickly jumping in, before the silence could stretch on for too long, she added, “Scarlett Noble.”

Ms. Smith gave them a grin as dazzling as it was terrifying. “Daysie Smith. Try not to get into more trouble, okay?”

“We’ll try,” Alna promised, an edge of humor in her voice.

Finally, they left, and Marianna found she could breathe much more easily. Neither girl talked as they walked back down the back alley. The children from earlier were still jumping on the trampoline, seeming unbothered by the wind.

By the time they reached the sidewalk they had taken initially, the wind, thankfully, had not picked up any more, nor had it gone down. The strands of hair that had escaped Alna’s hat were looking a bit frizzy. Alna, either not noticing or not caring, continued to look ahead, her face as hard as the porcelain Marianna liked to compare it to.

“That was stupid of me,” Alna said. She’d grabbed Marianna’s hand a couple of minutes ago, meaning Marianna could feel how tense she was. “I shouldn’t have let us be seen like that.”

Marianna looked over at Alna. She waited until a woman in a crop top had rushed past them, arms clasped over her bare stomach.

“If I remember right, you did everything you could to make sure no one saw us go into Ms. Smith’s backyard.” She tried to stop at the bus stop they had been dropped off at, but Alna kept tugging her along. Ironically, that was when a bus pulled up and a group of four people stood up to board.

“We’re going to the next spot.”

Alna fell silent for a moment, her expression softening into thoughtfulness. When she sped up, strides lengthening, Marianna tugged on her hand, reminding Alna of her shorter legs. Alna slowed down.

“Do you think Ms. Smith will try anything?” She pushed some escaped strands of hair out of her face. Around them, leaves blew along the ground, a group of them creating a small tornado of orange, yellow, and brown.

“She might,” Alna admitted, giving Marianna a sidelong look as if making sure she was all right. “It is likely the man she was talking to will be dead in a few weeks. Perhaps sooner, if we do nothing.” It was then she reached into the pocket of her old, worn leather jacket, extracting her phone. A slight smirk adorned her lips. “Luckily, I recorded a good portion of that conversation. Before the wind got bad, that is.”

Marianna could feel herself smiling as well. “Time to end this?” she asked hopefully. This time, when her heart sped up, it was not from nerves, but from excitement. They’d done in, she thought. She and Alna had found out who the person behind the “accidental deaths” was and were going to make sure the police were made aware. Marianna didn’t think she’d ever felt as elated as she did now.

With a pleased nod, Alna said, “I believe it is.”