"Um, let me see." Rosa's .nger slid down the paper. "It was Nikki! Come here. She said he yelled and swore at her when her horse got into his garden." She whistled softly. "And down here at the bottom . . . look!"

Jeri hurried across the little of. ce. "What?"

"See who signed the complaint?" She pointed at the signature.

"Ms. Carter?" Confused, Jeri leaned close to read. It said the house mother had reported the incident on behalf of one of her girls, Nikki Brown. It was a formal complaint lodged against Mr. Petrie, and it said Mr. Petrie was on probation for it. Jeri glanced over her shoulder again. "Put that back before he comes in and catches us."

"Okay, okay."

"Let's get outta here." As they hurried to the gla.s.sed-in area full of plants, Jeri .lled her in on what she knew. They stopped in the shade of some hanging ferns.

Rosa's voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe he wants revenge on both Nikki and Ms. Carter."

Jeri nodded. "Plus, adding something poisonous to Scottie's groceries makes the grocery store look bad."

"Why would he care about that?"

Jeri's heart felt heavy, like something was sitting on her chest. "A few days ago Mr. Petrie said The Head should be serving more of the food he grew because his was better than the store's."

"Is that a big deal?"

"I don't know." Jeri shrugged. "Maybe he gets paid extra for growing the food for the dining hall. Using Howard's would cut into his income then."

Rosa touched a delicate-looking ivory orchid. "What should we do?"

"Nothing right now." Jeri peered through the smudged gla.s.s walls of the greenhouse looking for Mr. Petrie. "I think I see him watering out there. I need to tell him about borrowing his book. Be right back."

Outside she walked alongside some miniature garden plots. Then she cut across and made her way between rows of huge white waxy .owers, reminding herself to act natu-ral. "Hi, Mr. Petrie," she called.

He glanced toward her and waved. "What's up?"

"Can I borrow this book next for my report?" Jeri's lips felt stiff, and she hoped her smile looked halfway normal.

"Sure. Just bring it back soon." When Jeri didn't move, he said, "Anything else?"

Tongue-tied and mouth dry, Jeri was vaguely aware of bees buzzing in the blooms. Yes, there was something else, but she could hardly ask, Have you poisoned any girls this week?

"No. Nothing. Thanks."

She pivoted, sliding in the newly watered dirt, and went down. Hard. She felt a crunch in her ankle when she landed. Large blossoms lay under her in the mud, and a mad b.u.mblebee zipped around her head. Jeri swatted at it and missed. The sting on her neck made her howl with pain.

"Ow!" she cried. Her neck suddenly felt as if it were on . re.

Mr. Petrie helped her to her feet and then picked up his book. "You all right?" he asked, handing her the paperback.

"My neck!" Jeri said, touching it tenderly. A b.u.mp was already swelling.

"Come with me. I've got a .rst-aid kit in my of. ce."

The painful burning was worsening, but Jeri wasn't going inside with Mr. Petrie. Not after the warning she'd read. "I'll just go back to my dorm," Jeri said. "It's not so bad now. Really."

But Jeri needed to get Rosa .rst. She turned down a mowed path between the tiny garden plots. A few empty ones were tilled and raked smooth. The others held plants more than half grown. Labeled stakes marked rows of radishes, zinnias, and peas. Name plates were stuck in the ground at each plot.

Glancing at them as she hurried by, Jeri spotted one that said Brooke. She wondered who it was. There were lots of Brookes at Landmark. When Jeri poked her head in-side the greenhouse, Rosa was reclining on a bag of cedar chips.

"There you are," Rosa said. "Wanna come with me to the library?" Rosa stood and brushed off the seat of her pants. "I'm checking out some horsey DVD for Nikki." She pointed at Jeri's muddy legs. "What happened to you?"

"I fell, and then I got stung." She pointed to her neck. "I'm going back to the dorm to get something for it. I'll meet you back there, okay?"

Ten minutes later when Jeri entered Hampton House, the grandfather clock in the living room was chiming. She hoped Ms. Carter was in her of.ce. Then she heard the house mother's deep laugh coming from the kitchen, and she headed down the hall.

She was almost to the kitchen when she also heard Emily's voice, then Brooke's. Jeri pulled back from the kitchen doorway. She wanted to ask Ms. Carter to check her bee sting-it was really throbbing-but not with Brooke and Emily there.

Jeri waited in the hallway, hoping they'd leave soon. She listened as the girls described some of the science fair displays.

"I'm petri.ed about tonight," Emily said. "If only I knew what the judges were going to ask! Then I could practice my answers."

"You'll do .ne," Ms. Carter said. "Remember, everyone else will be in the same boat, having to answer off the top of their heads."

"Yup," Brooke agreed. "I'm nervous too. At least you know Ms. Todd thinks your project has a great chance of winning."

"She was just being nice," Emily protested.

"Whatever!" Brooke said. "She didn't say that to me!"

"I guess we'll .nd out tonight," Emily said. "For now, I just want to take a break and veg out. We're allowing ourselves twenty minutes."

"What are you girls eating?" Ms. Carter said.

"Salsa and chips," Brooke said.

"I love salsa-but not the spicy stuff," Emily added. "I got four jars at the store." She laughed. "I'm eating this whole little jar myself!"

"Mine's got hot peppers." It sounded to Jeri like Brooke smacked her lips. "We kept all the food in our room this week though, just in case."

"For now, girls, that's probably wise," Ms. Carter said. Footsteps crossed the tile .oor. "I need to get something from my car. I'll be right back." The kitchen door opened and closed.

Emily said, "Grab a tray, okay? I'll start the movie. At least we can watch the beginning."

Oh no, Jeri thought. Please no. They weren't going to eat their snack in the kitchen. And now they'd catch her lurking on their way to the TV room. She scanned the area for a place to hide. Where? The hall closet. Or maybe- Too late.

Emily came around the corner, carrying a jar of salsa and a can of soda, and nearly collided with Jeri before skidding to a stop. Brooke plowed into Emily's back and dropped the bag of chips.

"What are you doing?" Brooke demanded when she spotted Jeri. "Let me guess. Spying!"

10.

safe at last.

"I wasn't spying," Jeri mumbled. "I wanted to talk to Ms. Carter."

Of course, she had been eavesdropping. She stooped to pick up the spilled chips. Handing them to Brooke, Jeri saw that Brooke's palm was spotted with a rash again. I'm glad I don't have allergies, she thought.

The kitchen door opened and closed then, and Ms. Carter was back. Jeri went to show her the bee sting. While Ms. Carter cleaned it and applied antibiotic cream, Jeri's mind began to wander. Something was bothering her-she couldn't put her .nger on it -but it buzzed around her head like that b.u.mblebee.

"Are you all right?" Ms. Carter asked. "You seem a little dazed." She felt Jeri's forehead. "Bee stings can be serious. Are you sick to your stomach?"

"I don't think so . . ."

Jeri closed her eyes and did an instant replay of the last .ve minutes. In slow motion she reviewed the conversa-tion she'd overheard, then running into Brooke and Emily, picking up the chips and handing them back to Brooke . . . What was wrong? What had set her mind to churning?

"I think I might lie down for a while," Jeri . nally said.

She headed upstairs, thoughts whirling in confusion. Maybe a nap would help. First she walked by Brooke and Emily's room. When she walked by the partially opened door, a pungent odor wafted out. Jeri blinked. What was that strong smell?

Glancing around the room, she couldn't see anything odd enough to account for the odor. Then she noticed the wastebasket. The smell seemed to be drifting up from there. She inspected the contents and found a spoon with bits of red sauce on it. She sniffed again. Salsa.

But that didn't account for the whole smell.

Jeri turned slowly, snif.ng, and then bent down, reaching under the edge of the nearest bed. She pulled out a wad of paper towels, unwrapped them, and saw what looked like a garlic press. Her mom used one when she cooked homemade spaghetti sauce. She picked it up and smelled it. The white bits left in the press sure didn't smell like garlic.

What could it be? And why did the plastic spoon have salsa on it? Had something been added to the salsa? It wasn't garlic, but something that could be crushed in the garlic press.

Then, unbidden, an image of Brooke's tight jeans and the lump in her pocket .ashed through Jeri's mind. Downstairs just now, when she'd handed Brooke the spilled chips, there was no lump in her front pocket. She must have done something with- "Oh no!"

Jeri dashed out of the room and down the hall and, hanging onto the banister, .ew down the stairs. She b.u.mped into Ms. Carter in the entryway, but there was no time to explain.

In the TV room, the movie had begun. Emily and Brooke were sprawled on the lumpy couch, feet up on the coffee table. A tray of food was between them. Emily had opened her jar of salsa and dipped her tortilla chip full. She had her mouth open wide.

Jeri .ung herself into the room, leaped over Brooke's legs, and knocked the chip from Emily's hand. "Don't eat that!" she cried.

Emily screamed. Brooke yelled and hit Jeri's back. Jeri cracked one shin so hard on the edge of the coffee table that it took her breath away. She bounced and rolled onto the .oor, landing on Emily's feet and whacking her elbow on the . oor.

"What are you doing?" Brooke yelled, standing over her.

Jeri tried to take deep breaths, willing the pain to subside. Her arm and leg were bent awkwardly under her. She heard steps running down the hall, and several girls pounding down the stairs called, "What's going on?"

Jeri rolled over, rubbing her elbow and arm. Then she grabbed the jars of salsa before Brooke could. "Here," she said breathlessly, handing them to Ms. Carter. "If you have these tested, I think you'll see that Brooke's jar of salsa is .ne -but Emily's has been poisoned."

Emily gasped.

"You're crazy," Brooke said. "You're trying to frame me now!"

Ms. Carter helped Jeri up to a chair, then -setting the salsa on the table-said, "I think you'd better explain." She felt Jeri's forehead again.

"No, I'm not running a fever. I know what I'm saying." She rubbed her shin. "When you test that salsa, I think you'll .nd more than onions or garlic in it. I think you'll .nd a crushed daffodil bulb."

The color drained slowly from Brooke's face. "You're crazy!" she said, turning to the doorway.

"Stay put, please." Ms. Carter's voice had a steely edge. "Let's get to the bottom of this. Jeri, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Check Brooke's palms, Ms. Carter."

Brooke frowned at her hands. "It's a rash. You already know I have allergies."

"I know you told me Monday night that you had aller-gies. That's when you heard me go into the bathroom and rushed in after me, pretending to be sick."

"I wasn't pretending to be sick!"

"Well, you made a lot of gagging noises anyway, to throw suspicion off yourself. You sure didn't want me to get Ms. Carter that night."

"I told you why!" Brooke spluttered.

"You told me lots of things," Jeri said. "Today at the greenhouse I saw a garden plot with your name by it. It re-minded me that you use daffodils in your science display."

"So?"

"So if we look in your room, would you have any daffodil bulbs up there?"

"No."

Emily's voice was soft -and confused. "But you got some today."

Brooke turned on her in fury. "So what! I used them for my science fair project. You know that."

Ms. Carter stepped forward then. "Jeri, I'm not follow-ing you. What does Brooke's science fair project have to do with this salsa?"

"Nothing," Jeri said, "except I saw Brooke earlier. I thought she was on the way home from setting up at the gym, but she was actually coming back from the greenhouse. She had a lump in her pants pocket then, like a rock." She pointed at Brooke's front pocket. "It's not there now. I'm betting that the 'rock' was a daffodil bulb from the greenhouse."

Ms. Carter shook her head slowly. "I still don't understand."

Jeri could see that the house mother thought she'd lost her senses. "I just found a crushed daffodil bulb under Brooke's bed. In their garbage can I found a spoon with salsa and bits of the crushed bulb on it. Daffodil bulbs are poisonous," she explained. "People can get accidentally poisoned when they think a daffodil bulb is a small onion or piece of garlic." She held up her hand. "And when you handle daffodil bulbs without gloves, you get a rash-just like the rash on Brooke's hands."

Emily shrank back from her roommate, pushing herself into the corner of the couch. "Is this true? Did you try to poison me?" Her pale face lost even more of its color. "But why? What did I ever do to you?"

It felt to Jeri as if everyone had frozen. Someone had even paused the movie, capturing a swimmer in the middle of a high dive.

Emily's anguished questions hung in the air. When Brooke just stared at her lap, Jeri said, "I think I can guess. Ms. Todd believes you'll win the science fair with your brain functions display. Brooke tried at Abby's party to make you too sick to work on your project. When that didn't work, she added something during the week to your trail mix. But you recovered again and got back to work.

Today's salsa would have made you too sick to answer questions for the judges tonight. That would . nally give Brooke a chance to win."

Emily frowned. "But Brooke doesn't care about win-ning. Just ask her."