No Test for the Wicked: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Five by Julie Moffett Page B

sexy.”
    He pulled back from my neck and stared at me, his eyes darkening. “Can you wear that skirt to bed?”
    I looked down at my skirt. “Done.”
    A slow smile crossed his face. “So, would you like that recipe in Italian?”
    “Wow.” My breath caught in my throat. “I sure would.”

Chapter Eleven
    The next morning I returned to school reinvigorated and ready to get the hacker. I felt like I’d made some progress yesterday, so I’d see what today would bring.
    As soon as I entered the corridor, the stench of rotting flesh hit me hard. Everyone around me held their noses. A custodian walked around, hunting the source without any luck.
    Breathing through my mouth, I headed for my locker. When I spun the combination and opened the door, a large rat fell out and splatted on the floor at my feet. I jumped back. A girl two lockers down began shrieking, which caused a mini-stampede of students running away from me and screaming so loudly my ears rang.
    I bent over and peered at the animal. Definitely a rat.
    The custodian ran over and knelt next to it.
    “Ah, ha!” He glared at me. “Is this yours?”
    “You’re asking me if I own a dead rat?”
    “You won’t believe what some kids keep in their locker.”
    I pinched my nose shut. “I assure you this rat does not belong to me.”
    “But this is your locker?”
    “
Was
my locker. I’m definitely asking for a new one.”
    He frowned at me. “Why do you have a dead rat in your locker?”
    “Good question. Because someone put it there?”
    “Like some kind of joke?”
    “Well, I’m certainly not laughing.”
    “Do you know who did it?”
    I did, but I wasn’t going to rat...pun intended. “Not a clue. I’m new here.”
    He stared at me and then stood. “Okay. Don’t touch it.”
    “Seriously, that’s not going to be a problem.”
    He marched off and I studied my locker, trying to figure out the physics of getting the book for my next class out without touching the dead rat on the floor or the gooey stuff covering the book at the top of the pile. If someone had done this to me when I was actually in high school, I’d have skipped school for three days while plotting my online revenge. Now I just found it annoying and disgusting. And I felt sorry for the rat.
    “You shouldn’t have stood up for me.”
    I turned around and saw Wally. He looked at the rat. “That’s gross even for him.”
    “Mack?”
    “Who else? He’s a jerk first-class. Because of your association with me, intended or not, you’re now marked. Good thing you’re a senior. It’s going to be several long months for you.”
    “How did you know I was a senior?”
    “Your class load.”
    “How do you know what my class load is?”
    “There’s a lot I know. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
    “Wait.” I reached into my locker and carefully slid a book from the middle of the pile. I carried my coat and backpack with me. No way was I leaving them near that dead rat smell.
    “I don’t know where I’m going,” I said, fumbling for my course schedule.
    “You have Systems Forensics.”
    “Glad to know you’re so familiar with my schedule.”
    “Don’t mention it.”
    Without a word he showed me where my next class was and then disappeared down the hall. I sat in the class and made a concerted effort to answer a bunch of questions to hopefully get noticed by other tech students. Unfortunately, all I did was attract the puzzled attention of the teacher, who probably wondered if I was secretly plotting to take over her job.
    On the way to my next class, Ron, the IT guy, caught up with me and told me Bonnie wanted to talk to me. I entered the office and started to walk back to Bonnie’s room when Marge—um, Ms. Eder—stopped me.
    “Excuse me. Just where do you think you are going?”
    I turned around slowly. Crap. I’d forgotten I was a student.
    “Ah, I was told Ms. Swanson wanted to see me.”
    “Then you tell me and I tell her.”
    “Right. Sorry.” I