Free Tommy Nightmare (Jenny Pox #2) by JL Bryan Page A

her chest, and just happened to skip her fingers over
her breast as she brought her hand down.
    “I think you must have incredible strength to cope
with all this vitriol,” O’Flannery said.
    “All I ever said was teens shouldn’t have sex,”
Ashleigh said. “How is that controversial?”
    “Never underestimate the sheer hatred of the left,”
O’Flannery said. “The truth makes them howl. In fact, I think it’s
time to call out the Liberal Moondogs.”
    A sound effect of several barking dogs played, and
four cartoon dogs paraded across the screen.
    “Now let’s look at the victims of this radical
atheist principal,” he said. There was a slideshow of
black-and-white photos, pregnant girls looking depressed and
ashamed, accompanied by slow, sad music. Heather had seen a few of
those same girls in the gymnasium over the last couple of days.
    Heather paused the video. This Ashleigh
person seemed strange to her. Unnaturally self-possessed and in
command, she thought, for a high-school girl from a flyspeck
town.
    On her other laptop, Heather looked up the
Goodling family. None of them had checked in for medical screening.
None of them were identified among the deceased, either. She might
have to put the Goodling household at the top of her community
outreach efforts.
    Then Heather looked up the other girl again,
the one Darcy had accused of witchcraft. When Heather asked the
other pregnant girls, a couple of them had reluctantly admitted to
seeing Jenny Morton fall into a pond and never return to the
surface. They had described Jenny as covered with blisters and
sores at the time.
    So Jenny Morton was Heather’s first suspected
case. But it might mean dredging the pond at the Goodling house to
see if it held an infected body, whether the body was Jenny Morton
or somebody else. Of course, that sort of thing was what all the
Homeland Security money was for.
    Unless Jenny had slipped unnoticed out of the
pond and was still alive, as Darcy had said. A visit to the Morton
house would also be high on her priority list.
    She had so little to go on, she might as well
investigate these anomalies.
    The bodies were slowly being identified and
their listings marked DECEASED in the database. When that process
was complete, she might have more useful information.
    For now, all she had was Darcy Metcalf and
her odd talk of witchcraft.
     
     
    Late in the afternoon, Darcy brought some
fresh-cut daisies and pansies from her mother’s garden to lay them
on the walkway in front of Ashleigh’s house. Her flowers from two
days ago had withered, of course, but her note was still there.
    She frowned as she stepped closer. The little
envelope had been torn open. Darcy lay the bouquet down and picked
up the envelope.
    The hand-written note, where she’d poured out
to Ashleigh how much she missed her, was gone.
    Darcy frowned.
    “Hi there,” a voice said, and she jumped
    The boy who approached looked her own age, or
a little older. He had scruffy patches of early beard growth,
midnight black hair, and cloud-gray eyes that immediately reminded
her of Ashleigh. And he was incredibly cute.
    “Oh!” Darcy said. “Hi.”
    “You’re the one who’s been leaving flowers
for Ashleigh,” he said.
    “Um. Yeah. I’m Darcy Metcalf.” She held out
her hand, tentatively, but he didn’t shake it.
    “I’m Tommy.” He folded his arms.
    “Are you Ashleigh’s…cousin, or
something?”
    “Yeah,” he said. “Yep. Her cousin. Tommy
Goodling.”
    “Wow. I didn’t know…I mean, I…”
    “They don’t talk about us much. They probably
wouldn’t want anybody to know I’m in town. We’re sort of the bad
branch of the Goodlings.” Tommy winked.
    Darcy giggled.
    “So, I’ve been waiting here for hours,” Tommy
said. “Where is everybody? Where’s Ashleigh?”
    “Oh.” Darcy felt sad for him. “You don’t
know.”
    “Don’t know what?”
    “Um, maybe Dr. Goodling or Mrs. Goodling will
be home soon.” Darcy didn’t know how