Prove It!

by Susanne Matthews

  “Don’t you think I know that? I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure this out, and I keep coming up with more questions than answers.”

  Before she could respond, the door opened, and Mrs. Howard came in, followed by the nurse pushing the bed with Liam in it.

  Hannah’s breath caught in her throat, and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

  Liam’s head and face were swathed in bandages, reminding her of the Invisible Man. A stiff cervical collar enclosed his neck, and he was intubated, hooked up to oxygen to help him breathe easier. His closed eyes, surrounded by dark raccoon-masklike circles, the result of internal bruising, were a sharp contrast to the bandages and sheets. From his arm dangled an IV line that would soon be reconnected to the various medications he needed.

  “Hannah,” Mrs. Howard said, noticing her standing next to Erik. “I didn’t know you were here. Working today?”

  Liam’s mom sounded and looked exhausted. The circles under her eyes were almost as dark as her son’s. Apparently, she refused to leave the hospital except for an hour a day to go home, shower, and change. The woman had aged, as one could expect given the circumstances. The glow Hannah remembered had been replaced by the same hospital pallor she saw on the people she visited as part of her candy-striper duties.

  “Hi, Mrs. H. I just finished my shift, but I can get you something before I go if you want it.”

  “No, I’m fine. I had coffee at home.”

  “How did the MRI go?”

  The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. I met Katie here in the elevator. He didn’t complain.” She sighed. “I wish he would.” She touched her son’s hand. “After Mike died, I didn’t think I had the strength to go on, but I did. This time…”

  Standing back, Mrs. Howard allowed the nurse to hook Liam up to the various tubes and machinery now surrounding the bed.

  Hannah swallowed the emotions clogging her throat.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, needing to be out of the room before her distress overwhelmed her. “Erik, call me tonight, and I can help you with that problem we were discussing. Don’t forget. Mari has my number.”

  “I will,” he said and mouthed the words ‘thank you.’

  Hannah left the room, wishing she could’ve let Liam know she was there for him, but the best thing she could do was help Erik figure out who might be behind this. If they were going to try to get to the bottom of this, they would have to be careful because whoever was behind it wouldn’t want anyone snooping around. They were playing for keeps. Were Papa or Mama ever to find out she’d put herself in danger, she’d be grounded for life or maybe even longer.

  Chapter Four

  Hannah slipped into O’Malley’s after school Monday afternoon, praying Malcolm and his friends weren’t there. She’d just had an hour’s long practice with him and if she had to listen to his smug bragging a moment longer, she would lose it. Looking around the coffee shop, certain Erik would find an excuse not to show up, she heaved a sigh of relief to see him there, sitting in the booth across from his sister, looking like a man on his way to his own execution. It didn’t do a lot for Hannah’s self-confidence.

  As she’d hoped, because they’d won another cross-country meet on Friday, Coach Snow had opted for a short practice tonight. He’d still made them go through the drills and had commented on all of the errors they’d made, but he’d gone on and on about how well Malcolm had done even though his time was still slower than Liam’s had been in his last race. Nevertheless, the coach had been in a good mood and had let them go soon enough for her to meet Mari and Erik before having to catch the last bus home.

  “Hi,” she said as she approached the table. “Sorry I’m a little late. Glad you made it. How’s he doing today?”

  “He isn’t awake yet, but the doctor’s hopeful he’ll come around in a day or so. They removed the intubation and he’s breathing on his own, even if he’s got an oxygen mask on,” Mari said. “Mom was there with Mrs. Howard today when they did it. Apparently, it’s a really good sign.”

  Hannah’s spirits rose. If Liam could breathe well enough on his own, it meant his punctured lung had responded to treatment.

  “My dumb ass brother filled me in on what’s been going on,” Mari said, shaking her head. “I don’t know which of them makes me angrier—Erik for not telling me, or Liam for ignoring the death threats and keeping them to himself.”

  “It has to be a guy thing,” Hannah agreed. “I would’ve been screaming all the way to the principal’s office.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Erik said through gritted teeth. “This place is busy, and we don’t want the wrong people to hear us. As far as telling someone, it isn’t that easy for guys like Liam and me. We don’t have a lot of friends at Ivy Hills. I wanted him to take it more seriously and in light of what happened, I was right. I wish I hadn’t been.”

  “Maybe Mari and I can help you figure out who’s behind it,” she volunteered, determined to see someone, other than Liam, pay for this. She’d been thinking about what Erik had said. If they could find the person who sent the notes and messed with Liam’s gear, they might find out who carried things one step too far.

  “Let’s look at this logically, the way Sherlock Holmes would, and see if we can figure it out. As my hero likes to say, ‘When you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains however improbable must be the truth.’ Tell me exactly who you suspect and why. If we can find proof, like those missing shoes or fingerprints on those water bottles, the police would have to listen and follow up on it, but you’re right about one thing. We can’t build a case on hearsay and rumors.”

  Erik drummed his fingers on the table, his shyness forgotten. “Everybody and his mother has handled those water bottles, so that’s a dead end, but finding the shoes would be huge. Liam refused to look at things the way I do. His years at Ivy Hills have been easier than mine, but we don’t belong there. As far as I’m concerned, the whole damn school could be behind this.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard rumors about the way some of those rich kids treat the townies, but I’ve never had a problem with them. I’ve met a few of the guys on the track team…”

  “I haven’t had a problem either,” Mari interjected. “And neither has Ronje.”

  “You’re girls,” he said as if that explained it all. “As far as most of the school’s illustrious students are concerned, guys like Liam and I are bottom feeders, not worthy of a second glance, but to others, we’re targets.”

  She sighed heavily. Everyone always thought their bullies were worse than anyone else’s.

  “For a smart guy, you aren’t looking at this with your head. You’re letting your emotions and—let’s face it—personal opinions sway you. You’ve got to focus on the facts. First off, suspecting the entire school of collusion is ridiculous. No matter what kind of jerks go to school there, I refuse to believe everyone at Ivy Hills conspired to destroy Liam—you didn’t, and there have to be others. Besides, having the winning runner of that scholarship would be a huge feather in the school’s cap, so you can be damn sure the administration isn’t involved, especially your coach. Coach Snow said there’s a twenty thousand dollar honorarium to the winning candidate’s athletic director. The people who go to school there might be rich, but those who work there aren’t. We need to eliminate suspects before we can even think of motive. How many people attend Ivy Hills?”

  “I figured I would have to start there, so I’ve made a couple of lists. The student population is a hundred and forty. There are forty staff members including teachers, the kitchen help, the cleaning staff, and the maintenance crew.”

  “So we’re talking about a hundred and eighty people—one seventy eight, minus you and Liam. Now, how many of those people would have access to Liam’s gym locker?”

  His face flushed. “All the students use the gym, but the locker area is restricted to team members, so maybe sixty if you consider the football team. Most of them play other sport
s as well.”

  “That’s still a huge suspect pool,” Mari said, but she hung on her brother’s every word.

  “I’m not finished. The coaches, school administrators, and the maintenance staff would have access as well, so you can tack on twelve adults.”

  “Fine. You’re going to have to find a way to narrow that suspect pool. It could be a conspiracy, but it won’t be one involving more than seventy people. Who stands to win with this accident?”

  “That’s just it. No one at Ivy Hills wins. In fact, as you pointed out, the coach and the whole school will lose if he does.”

  “Don’t you think he’s already lost his shot at it?” she asked, confused. “He didn’t run the last two races.”

  “True, but if he can run again by spring, he can still win it. Because of the lead he had, he’s still in first place overall in the standings. There’s only one more sanctioned race between now and March, and while it’ll eat away at his lead, he’ll stay on top, but if he can’t run by then…”

  “So, who does stand to win?” She refused to consider it could be a permanent injury.

  “According to Liam—we talked about this the day of the accident—the only one who could defeat him is Malcolm Porter from your school, and we already know what a stellar human being he is. He won the last two races, but he’ll need to win the next four sanctioned races to beat Liam. There’s no way he could’ve managed the pranking. He’d never get by the security to get into the lockers.”

  Hannah pursed her lips. “Malcolm’s a jerk, and I wouldn’t put anything past him,” she said, wishing she could spit, since just saying his name left a bad taste in her mouth. “He certainly has the most to gain because of this, and there’s no doubt he was an absolute ass after the accident and then gloating when he won those races, but he couldn’t have done it alone. If there were girls at Ivy Hills, he would have accomplices there because for some reason most of the girls drool all over him, but he’s probably more despised by the guys than you are.”

  There’d been a fight last year after Central had beaten the team in basketball that had landed kids from both schools in hot water.

  “The police checked his truck and didn’t find anything to implicate him. Like he said, he was in Augusta when it happened,” Erik argued.

  “True, but if anyone around here knows people in low places who might do something like this, he would be my choice, and if it’s as hard as you say to get into the locker room, then he has to have an accomplice. That mystery person is the one were looking for. Do you have a picture of Liam’s missing shoes?”

  “Maybe. They were the ones he had on when he won last season’s final track meet, and if someone has a full body shot…”

  “Okay,” she said, not in the least bit optimistic. The local newspaper would’ve cropped the shot if they’d taken one. She would have to hope someone else had, too. “Finding those shoes would be a big help. If you took Liam’s shoes, what would you do with them?”

  “Me? Not that I would, but I would trash them. They were orange, for heaven’s sake. I would be afraid of getting caught with them, but those shoes cost a fortune—so maybe someone else would try to sell them first.”

  “My thoughts exactly. People sell just about everything anonymously online.”

  “You’ve got a point. When I get home I’ll run a search for them on the most popular selling sites.”

  Hannah smiled. “Great. Now, can you get the other damaged things from his locker?”

  “Not me, but maybe Caleb or Josh can.”

  “The boys on the track team? Ronje’s boyfriend?” Mari asked. “I’m supposed to go to the movies with her, Caleb, and Josh on Friday night.” She glared at her brother. “Just because you don’t like him doesn’t me I can’t.”

  “Hey, I’ve got nothing against those two. They haven’t given me any grief, and as far as spoiled rich kids go, they aren’t too bad.”

  “You do know you’re a snob, don’t you?” Hannah asked, shaking her head in disgust.

  “Me? A snob? You’re crazy,” Erik protested, obviously insulted she would even consider he was.

  “I don’t know, Erik,” Mari said. “You do look down your nose at others. Hannah’s right.”

  “You most certainly do,” Hannah said, grateful for Mari’s support and more than a little annoyed with Erik’s attitude. Talk about having a chip on his shoulder. “Reverse snobbery is still snootiness, so Mr. Pot, I think you need to stop calling Mr. Kettle black. If you think of the guys at Ivy Hills that way, it’s no wonder they give you a hard time.” She turned to Mari. “Do you think you could ask Caleb and Josh to help us?”

  “Probably, but there’s no way I could do it without telling Ronje.”

  Erik scowled, obviously not pleased with what she’d said. “I guess, but a secret shared among six people is a lot harder to keep.”

  “Stuff it. Ronje isn’t a blabbermouth,” Mari said, sticking her tongue out at her brother. “I want to help Liam, and I’m sure they will, too.”

  He nodded reluctantly. “You’re probably right about that, but I refuse to believe I’m a snob.” He scrunched up his face and sneered. “At any rate, Liam was convinced they weren’t in on it. I can ask tomorrow.”

  “Well, try to be nice about it and not accusing,” Mari said. “Leave your grumpy bear attitude at home. Maybe bring in some of those cookies Mom made to sweeten the deal.”

  “Bribery can’t hurt,” Hannah agreed. “That would eliminate two more from the pool of suspects. Make sure no one else overhears you, just in case you’re conspiracy theory is correct—on a much smaller level of course. The best thing Mari and I can do is snoop around at Central and see what we can find. I’ll keep an eye on Malcolm the jerk, but right now, I’ve got to go or I’ll miss the bus.” She picked up her backpack and sipped the last of the soda Mari had ordered her earlier. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Hurrying out of the coffee shop, she sprinted back to school, arriving at the bus stop seconds before Mr. Nicholson started the engine.

  Settling into her seat next to Mina, she smiled. “I met Mari and Erik at O’Malley’s for an update on Liam. He’s doing better—not awake yet, but that should happen soon.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. How’s Erik holding up?”

  Hannah cocked her head to the side. “Erik? Why would he be having any trouble now that Liam’s out of danger?”

  Mina reddened. “You know. Other than Liam, I don’t think he has a lot of friends there.”

  “You like him,” Hannah exclaimed.

  “Maybe a little,” Mina admitted. “He’s totally geek chic, and he’s got gorgeous eyes behind those glasses, but I don’t think he even knows I exist.”

  Hannah smiled. “You’re probably right. He can be a little full of himself, too.”

  Mina and Erik? Funny, she hadn’t seen it before, but it made sense. Opposites attracted, right? She was going to have to see just what she could do to help that relationship along.

  * * * *

  Flashes of light and barely recognizable sounds and images moved through Liam’s mind as he slowly surfaced from the darkness and groaned, convinced his head was about to explode. He took a deep breath, unleashing wave after wave of incredible pain in his chest. Tears filled his eyes. His lower body was like an immovable slab of concrete. Considering the level of pain in the parts he could feel, that was probably a good thing, but the thought that he might be paralyzed filled him with terror.

  What happened to me? Where am I?

  He tamped down his panic and forced himself to listen. Although the noises were muffled, he heard a series of electronic beeps, but couldn’t identify them. He tried to open his eyes, but the brightness, like knives stabbing directly into his brain, was too much, and he moaned.

  “Liam, I’m here, sweetheart.”

  Recognizing his mother’s voice, he felt her hand take his—one of the few parts he could actually feel that didn’t hurt. He trie
d to squeeze her hand, but he didn’t have the strength to do it. He was thirsty, his mouth and throat parched. Slowly running his tongue over his lips, he found them swollen and cracked.

  “Mom?” The word was nothing more than an unintelligible croak.

  “I’m here, darling.” Her voice was gruff as if she had a sore throat or a heavy cold.

  “Water,” he tried to say, but his jaw wouldn’t open enough to let him speak. He made another attempt, and managed a seemingly incomprehensible grunt. Someone removed a slight pressure from his face, and he felt a straw against his lip. Opening them as much as he could, he sipped, allowing the cool liquid to slip down his parched throat, but the effort exhausted him. Whatever covered his mouth dropped back into place.

  What was that? An oxygen mask? Why was he getting oxygen?

  His mind could offer no answer.

  “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine,” his mother said huskily, her voice choked with tears. “Sleep. You have a lot of healing to do.”

  What the hell happened to me?

  He tried to think, but his head hurt far too much, and he let the blackness take him.

  Liam rose once more out of nothingness into the light, the pain in his head slightly less agonizing than it had been, and he managed to focus on the area around him. He was on his back, but not fully supine, the head of the bed elevated a few inches. The room was small—three walls and glass doors, closed at the moment. Since there wasn’t a window in the room, the light was courtesy of some other type of specialized low level lighting. A bed, a side table, a bank of machines and monitors, IV poles—he was in a hospital room. Why? What had happened?

  The last thing he remembered was … he struggled. He had to recall something. He’d been upset, but at the moment he couldn’t pinpoint what had distressed him. Forcing himself to focus, the image of meatloaf came to mind. Like a slow motion movie, bits and pieces came back to him—snow, an owl, he’d gone out running—but that was it. He drew a blank.