“Sure.”
So they pop it in and soon are playing. Olivia explains some things, but Cody seems pretty comfortable, so she just encourages him and gets into it.
Okay, I'm starting to feel a little bored after nearly an hour of this, and I say to no one in particular that I'm going to go downstairs to the basement. I don't even know why I really want to do this since it pretty much creeped me out the last time. But maybe it's like facing my demons. Or maybe I'm just really bored. If nothing else, I figure I can pray.
Everything looks the same down here, and I get that same chilled feeling again. I mean, obviously it's cold since it's February and raining outside. But it's more than just that. It's almost as if there's a real spiritual force down here, and I have half a mind to drag Olivia down here so we can both pray over this room, the way she did for my own bedroom after we visited the suicide website. Maybe I will.
I walk around the room, looking at not much of anything, and I almost expect God to show up and give me a vision—maybe that final vision that will make everything make sense. Then I hear footsteps, and I nearly jump out of my shoes. But I turn to see that it's only Cody.
“What are you doing down here?” he asks in a suspicious voice.
“Just thinking. Where's Olivia?”
“Using the bathroom.”
“Oh.”
“What are you thinking about?”
I decide to play my hand carefully “Your brother.”
“What about him?”
“I'm thinking that he didn't really kill himself. I'm thinking that he'd like to have the truth told.”
Now Cody doesn't say anything, just stands there halfway down the stairs with a frightened look on his face. I almost expect him to turn around and bolt.
“I know you're afraid,” I continue in a quiet voice. “And I can understand that. But I also know that you loved your brother, right?”
“Yeah.”
I look right into his eyes. “Your brother would want you to tell the truth, Cody. He wants you to know that it's the right thing to do and that you will be okay.”
“How do you know that? I know you had that dream and everything. What are you? Some kind of psychic or something?”
I don't react to this accusation, but for some reason I feel like I need to tell him the truth. “I have a gift, Cody. A God-given gift for knowing and seeing things. But no, I'm not a psychic. It's not like that.” I pause. “And do you know what?”
“What?”
“I had a vision about you yesterday.”
He comes down the steps now, slowly, but I can tell he wants to know. “What was it?”
“You were trapped in a video game again.”
“Uh-huh?” he peers at me with interest.
“But you wanted out.”
“Huh?”
“You were trapped,” I explain, “just like you're trapped in this thing with Peter. And you want out, don't you?”
He nods.
“Will you tell me what happened, Cody, if I promise that I'll help you out of this?”
“Are you really a police officer?”
“I'm just starting to work with the police,” I tell him. “But I can guarantee you that Detective Hamilton will do whatever it takes to assure that you'll be okay if you tell the truth, okay?”
“I don't know…”
There's a verse in the Bible. It says, ‘You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.’ Don't you want to be free, Cody?”
He nods, and tears bead up in the corners of his eyes.
“You can trust me, okay?”
Then he starts blurting out a story, like he can't get the words out fast enough. And it all makes perfect sense. Peter's best friend, Brett Carnes, wasn't just doing meth; he was selling it too. Apparently Peter found out that Brett had sold meth to his girlfriend, Faith, getting her hooked, and Peter was furious.
“Peter kept saying to Brett, ‘You lied to her, you lied to her.’ Peter was so angry that I thought maybe he was going to kill Brett. But I didn't know that Brett had Dad's gun.”
“And you were hiding down here the whole time?”
“I'd snuck down here to use Peter's PlayStation. I wasn't supposed to because I didn't ask first, so when I heard them coming, I hid over there ‘cuz I didn't want Peter to get mad at me.” He points to a dark corner back behind the stairway.
“And they didn't see you.”
“Not until after.” He takes in a breath. “Peter said he was going to call the cops and tell them that Brett was a drug dealer. Then Brett told Peter he wasn't gonna let him do that. He said he'd kill Peter first. But I thought they were just talking, you know?”
I nod. “Like when you get mad at someone and say, ‘I'm gonna kill you’?”
“Yeah, like that. And then I heard Peter say, Where'd you get that gun?’ and his voice sounded weird, like he was really scared. Then Brett said it was Dad's, and Peter cussed. He told Brett to put it back. He said he never should've showed Brett where Dad kept the gun. But Brett said it was too late. Then Peter started begging him, and I didn't know what to do. I thought maybe Brett was just kidding. Maybe he was trying to scare Peter to keep him from calling the police. Then I heard the shot.” Cody starts to cry harder now.
“It's okay, Cody. Peter would be glad you're telling the truth.”
“Brett heard me under the stairs. I think I was crying. And he came over and told me that Peter had just killed himself. And I told him, ‘No, you killed him.’ Then Brett got really mad and pointed the gun at me. He said, “I think Peter killed you too. Yeah, he killed you and then he killed himself.’ And Brett held the gun to my head.”
“Oh, no!”
“He told me to keep my mouth shut or me and my parents would be just as dead as my brother.”
“What did you do after that?”
“I left the house. I got on my bike and I rode as far as I could go. And then after a long time I rode back. I thought maybe it didn't really happen, maybe I'd just been playing a video game and that I imagined it happened. I thought Peter was still alive. But when I got here, he was dead.”
“And you never told anyone what really happened?”
“I was afraid of Brett. He started coming over here all the time after that. He acted all nice and like he was my new big brother, and my parents really liked him. The more time went by, the more I knew I could never tell. I almost started to believe that Peter really did kill himself, that Brett was telling the truth. And I thought if I told anyone what really happened, they might even blame me for it, like if I'd done something maybe Peter wouldn't be dead.”
I put an arm around his shoulder and give him a hug. “I can understand that. It was really brave to tell me this. Do you feel better now?”
He nods and wipes his eyes with the cuff of his oversized sweatshirt.
“Now I'm going to tell Detective Hamilton what you told me, and I promise that you and your mom will be safe. Do you believe me?”
He nods again. “Yeah.”
“Do you think you're ready to tell your mom this story?”
“I guess.”
“She really needs to hear it.”
“But what about Brett?” he asks with fear in his eyes.
“Brett has been a suspect already. We're pretty sure that he's not even in the state. But now he'll probably be caught and charged with murder.”
“And locked up?”
“Definitely.”
Cody lets out a long sigh, and I notice that the door is slightly ajar upstairs. I think I see the toe of Olivia's shoe there. I'm guessing that she's been listening and praying. And forthat, I'm thankful.
“Let's go find your mom.”
Then we sit down with Mrs. Clark, and with some encouragement and coaching from me, Cody retells his gruesome story. And before long she is hugging her brave young son and telling him not to worry and that everything is going to be okay now. I can see the relief in her face. Sure, this doesn't bring Pete
r back. But at least she knows he didn't take his own life either. That is worth a lot.
“I need to call Detective Hamilton.” I excuse myself so I can make this call outside in private. She sounds stunned but pleased when I tell her the story.
“I thought it might be something like that,” she finally says. “But without Cody's testimony, we had nothing. I can't believe you got him to talk.” Then she laughs. “Well, actually I can. Now I'm going to call Detective Ramsay and tell him to issue a warrant and to make sure that Cody and his mom are both safe. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Good work, Samantha!”
“Thanks.”
When I go back in, Cody and Olivia are playing the video game again. But Cody looks different now. Instead of a frustrated, frightened little boy, he looks like a regular kid. Even so I decide to have a private conversation with Mrs. Clark about the violent video games that Cody seems so addicted to. I go into the kitchen and express my concerns.
“I've never liked those horrid games,” she admits. “But it seemed to be one of the few things Cody was interested in. Maybe we can move on now…now that the truth has come to the surface.” Then she thanks me again and even hugs me. “Maybe it's time that Cody and I started going to church again.”
I tell her that sounds great, and as Olivia and I drive away from their house, I know that God has begun a real miracle in their family!
On Monday afternoon, Ebony informs me that Brett Carnes was picked up in Idaho over the weekend. As it turned out, he was stopped for a driving violation and later charged with possession of illegal substances and illegal arms and stolen goods. Of course, the heftiest charge was added this morning, that of first-degree murder in Oregon. His bail is set at a million dollars, and he is definitely locked up.
“I told the Clarks the good news,” Ebony tells me when I meet her at the station. “Cody made a statement for me just a few minutes ago. He's still here if you'd like to see him.”
“I would.”
To my surprise, Cody gives me a hug.
“Can I speak to Cody privately?” I ask Mrs. Clark, and she just nods with teary eyes.
Cody and I go into Ebony's office and sit down. “You know what I told you yesterday, Cody? About how God gives me visions and dreams?”
He nods. “It's true, isn't it?”
“Yeah, it's true. It's just that it's kind of a secret. It's easier for me to help solve crimes and things if no one knows about it. But I figured I could trust you. You seemed like you were good at keeping secrets.”
He grins. “I am. An^ this is a good secret.”
“It is.” I squeeze his shoulder.
“I won't tell.”
Thanks.”
“And my mom told me that you were worried about the video games I play,” he says in a more serious voice.
“Yeah. Those violent games don't seem very good to me—especially when I saw them in my visions.”
“Anyway, I told Mom that I'd get rid of some of the bad ones.”
“And your mom said you guys were going to go back to church,” I say hopefully.
He makes a face. “I told her I'd go to church as long as I don't have to dress up nice.”
I smile. “Lots of churches don't make people dress up.”
He nods. “Good. Because God is going to have to take what He gets with me.”
I laugh. “And that's just what He wants, too.”
Dduring the next couple days, life seems to fall into a somewhat normal routine. Well, depending on how you define “normal.” But I feel lighter somehow, and even the sun is shining. Of course, this only gives everyone false hopes that spring might be around the corner.
Garrett and I have been helping Olivia to make decorations for the Sweethearts Ball. Olivia even left us to our own devices yesterday since she had to practice with Stewed Oysters. It was her second practice with them, and she seems jazzed about it.
“So how's Jack?” Garrett asks Olivia in a flat voice.
“He seems to have adjusted.” She cuts out yet another red heart, which I will soon be decorating with a glitter pen.
“Are you guys still planning on being the relief band for the dance?” I ask.
“I think so. Although I told the guys we wouldn't be able to pay much, which made Jack growl, but I'm willing to give up my cut. I think the exposure for the band wijl be good.”
“And it'd be fun to see you guys perform. What're you going to wear?”
“Cameron thinks I should go with a retro look like Blondie or Madonna, you know how they used to dress back in the eighties. Kind of over the top. Would that be weird?”
“I think it'd be fun,” I say as I doodle with the glitter. “As long as it's not sleazy.”
“What are you wearing?”
“I'm not sure. Mom wants to go with me tonight to look for something.”
Olivia tosses me a glance.
“Yeah, I guess she thinks she owes me one.” I already told Olivia about how Mom apologized to me for her drunken disorderly disaster—and how I forgave her. Hopefully it'll never happen again.
I glance over to where Garrett is wrestling with the metal heart arch that we'll attach balloons to. “How about you, Garrett? What are you wearing to the dance?”
He gives me a totally blank look. “Who said I'm even going?”
“You have to go,” says Olivia. “You're on the dance committee.”
“I got bullied into this,” he grumbles. “I never said I'd actually go to the dance.”
Now Olivia goes over and stands next to him. I can tell she's about to turn on the charm. “Please, come to the dance, Garrett,” she pleads with clasped hands.
“And do what?”
“Hey, I don't have a date,” she says suddenly. “Sam's going with Conrad. Why don't you and I go together?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” she says with bubbly enthusiasm. “It'll be fun. But you have to wear something cool, okay?”
He frowns. “Cool… like what?”
Olivia presses her lips together, and her forehead furrows. “I'm not sure. But I'll think of something. Trust me.”
“Nothing too weird, okay?”
“Not too weird. But it's got to be retro since I plan on wearing something from the eighties and I want your outfit to go with mine.”
Now Garrett brightens and I think maybe he's going to get into this. And why shouldn't he? Olivia is cute and singing in the band. Talk about a great opportunity for a science geek. Okay, I didn't mean that. But Garrett should be counting his blessings. I just hope he doesn't develop some kind of crush on Olivia because I can't quite imagine her getting serious about him. Then, of course, there's her no-dating-of-non-Christians rule.
As promised, Mom takes me “formal” dress shopping, and after several pathetic stores that seem to specialize in ugly, weird, or sleazy, I tell Mom I want to go to Ross Dress for Less.
“You're kidding?” she says. “You used to hate that place.”
“Well, I hate these places too,” I say as she drives away from the formal wear shop. “Maybe I'll find something funky at Ross. Olivia is going retro. Maybe I carrfind something that's a little wild or off beat, maybe something I can fix up to look different. Plus, it'll be cheap. And all I told Conrad is that I'll be wearing red.”
So we hunt and hunt at Ross, and I finally find a sort of interesting fire engine red dress that's way too big. But we borrow some straight pins from the dressing room lady and play with the dress a little, taking it in, pushing up the sleeves, and then Mom finds a wide shiny belt and some red platform sandals. I think I'm set.
Okay, it's a little flashy, but if Olivia's going for drama, then maybe I can carry it off too. Besides, this is supposed to be fun. It's not like someone's getting married or something.
“You really don't mind altering the dress for me?” I ask Mom as we go home.
“No, I think it'll be an easy fix, and that belt is going to hel
p a lot too.”
“Thanks.” Then I lean back and close my eyes, imagining what fun we'll have on Saturday night. Just normal kids doing normal—
Then here it comes again, a flash of light and suddenly I see a somewhat familiar scene. It's exactly the same bridge as I saw several weeks ago, the one near Kentwick Park. Only this time, it's not cloudy and gray outside. Instead, the sky is clear blue and I don't see anyone on the bridge. I think this is God's way of reassuring me that the original suicide vision and the subsequent ones don't really mean anything. Maybe it's over. Like a big sigh of relief. But in the same instant, I see a guy walking along the bridge again, slowly walking, as if he's afraid he's going to fall, as if he's afraid of heights. And then I see his face—clearly—and it's Garrett. No doubt, it's Garrett.
Oh, no! “I slap my hand over my mouth.
“What?” asks Mom, and I can tell I scared her. “What's wrong?”
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I was just, uh, I remembered something.”
“What?”
“Just homework,” I say, which isn't untrue. “A project I'd almost forgotten about.”
“Oh.”
As soon as we're home, I run upstairs and turn on my computer. And for no explainable reason, except that I feel compelled and it might be a God-thing, I go straight to the suicide website. I don't even feel that surprised to see there is a post from Gay Guy.
I know this was written by Garrett. I have no doubt. But I don't know what to do about it. I consider calling him right now, but it's getting kind of late. And okay, what if I'm wrong? Or what if the phone call sets off his dad again and puts Garrett in an even worse position? But then again, what if Garrett's in danger right now?
I pause to pray, asking God to guide me, and that's when I remember the vision again. The sky was clear and blue, like it was the middle of the day. I have to trust the vision. I have to trust God. If this is for real, I have at least until tomorrow. Still, I know that I need to pray for Garrett. I need to pray God's protection over him tonight. So I call Olivia and tell her what's up.
Tomorrow we intervene,” I tell her. “We'll find Garrett before first period, and we'll sit him down to talk. We'll stop this thing before it's too late.”
Beyond Reach Page 16
