by Adams, M. L.
I bought a large cup of coffee and drove across town to school. In the student parking lot, I found myself scanning the rows of cars looking for Sarah’s Honda Accord. It had been a day and half since I told her my life story. We hadn’t spoken since.
After parking, I pulled out my phone and sent her a message.
You around?
I waited.
Three minutes passed and she still didn’t reply. With a heavy sigh, I climbed out of my Jeep and ran to class.
In first period. Mr. Ewing, my math teacher, made the midterm exam available for download. I flipped through the pages on my iPad and was surprised to see I had done pretty well. A B-.
The phone on the wall near the front door buzzed. Mr. Ewing stopped his review and walked over to answer it. He listened to the caller as his eyes scanned the room. I glanced at the students sitting near me and wondered who was in trouble. When I looked back at Mr. Ewing, I realized he was staring right at me.
He hung up the phone, and said, “Ben, you’re wanted in the administrative office.”
I took a deep breath, knowing I was about to find out if the football team would have to forfeit the game or not. All eyes were on me as I made my way to the door.
A few minutes later I stepped into the large foyer near my school’s main entrance. On the far side, behind a large row of glass windows, were the admin offices. I glanced into the waiting room and stopped dead in my tracks. Seated on the couch was Detective Frost. But it wasn’t Frost who caused panic to course through my body. It was the man seated next to him.
Dr. Merrick.
My heart pounded. A dozen questions raced through my mind.
Does Frost know I lied on Monday night?
Is that why Merrick is here?
Am I going to jail?
I stepped tentatively across the foyer and opened the waiting room door. As I entered, both men stood.
“Hi, Benjamin,” Detective Frost said, extending a hand.
“Good to see you again, detective.”
Frost nodded at Merrick. “Benjamin, this is Dr. Merrick. He works for CyberLife Industries, a company based here in town. Megan Reynolds worked for him.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I said. I reached out and shook his hand.
Detective Frost turned to Ms. Brooks, who sat behind the reception desk. “Is there a conference room we can use for a few minutes?”
With Frost focused on Ms. Brooks, I glanced quickly at Merrick. He gave me a subtle nod. I let out the breath I was holding. Having known him for more than six years, I knew the nod was a good sign. His way of telling me to play along.
Ms. Brooks stood and motioned down the hall. “Yes, detective. You can use the conference room down the corridor on your right,” she said, one eye on me. I knew that, by the time I finished meeting with Frost and Merrick, a new rumor would be flying around the school.
Ben Raine, traitorous ex-football player, investigated by police.
Ugh.
I followed the two men down the hall to a small square conference room. In the middle were a round table and four chairs. Frost pulled one out and motioned for me to sit. I did.
“Ben, sorry to pull you out of class,” Detective Frost said with a slight smile on his face. “Hopefully you don’t mind.”
“I think I’ll manage, sir,” I replied.
“Also, just so you know, I called and left a message on your mom’s cell phone this morning. Just to inform her that I’m doing some follow-up with you about Monday night.”
Oh crap . . . my mom, I thought. Still haven’t called her.
Another ugh.
“Uh, thank you, sir,” I managed to say.
“That okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Frost eyed me, then said, “Ben, as you probably guessed, I’m still investigating the murder of Ms. Reynolds. You may not have known that she worked for CyberLife. She was doing some fairly sensitive work for them and I’m looking into whether or not her death may have been related to it. Because of this, Dr. Merrick is helping us with the investigation.”
I looked back and forth between the two men. “Related to her work?” I asked. “I thought you said it was a robbery or something?”
“Yes, and that still may be the case,” Frost replied. “But as I explained the other night, we make sure to look at all potential leads and motives. I’m going to let Dr. Merrick ask most of the questions today. I’m here as a matter of protocol and to take some notes for my investigation.” He turned to Merrick and nodded. “Go ahead, Doctor.”
“Thank you, detective,” Merrick said. “Ben, as you can imagine, all of us at CyberLife are still in a state of shock over Megan’s death. She was well liked and a valuable member of our team.” He paused, then asked, “You met Megan only a few days before her death? Is that correct?”
“Yes,” I replied tentatively. “We met . . . at a coffee shop last week.”
Merrick smiled.
I breathed a sigh of relief and trembled at the same time. It was now obvious I wasn’t the only one lying to the police. Yet another example of how seriously Merrick took his company’s NDA.
“Did she say anything to you about her professional life?” Merrick continued. “Maybe where she worked or what she was doing?”
“No, never,” I said. “I just assumed she was a college student or something.”
“Can you describe what you found when you arrived at Megan’s apartment?”
I stuck to the same story I had told Detective Frost and I walked through every painful moment from Monday night.
When I finished, Merrick asked, “Ms. Reynolds didn’t say anything to you before she died?”
Nothing really important, I thought. Just that I didn’t have cancer.
“No, sir,” I said aloud. “She was unconscious when I found her.”
Merrick and Frost nodded in unison.
“How did you get into her apartment?” Merrick asked.
“Sir?”
“Well, if Megan was unconscious on the floor, how did you get in? Her building was new and had a fairly sophisticated security system.”
“She gave me her door code, but it didn’t work,” I answered. “I was about to call her for help when I realized the door wasn’t locked.”
I noticed Frost writing fast. It wasn’t something we had discussed on Monday night. Nor was it something I put much thought into at the time. Now, I had to admit, it did seem strange.
“And her actual apartment door?” Merrick pressed.
“Same thing,” I said. “Unlocked.”
“So you just walked in?”
“Yeah.”
Frost cleared his throat, and said, “It appears the computer that controls the apartment complex’s doors was compromised. When you arrived, it had already been disabled.”
“How long were you in the apartment before you found her?” Merrick asked.
I shrugged. “Not long. Maybe a minute or two.”
“So, she didn’t say anything?” Merrick asked again.
“I said no.”
The two men shared a glance and Frost jotted more notes in his black book.
“Sorry,” I said. “It’s . . . hard to talk about.”
Detective Frost smiled warmly. “I know it is, Ben. Just bear with us a few more minutes.”
“Did she give you anything?” Merrick asked.
“Give me something?” I replied. “No. I just said she was unconscious the whole time I was there.”
Merrick smiled briefly, then turned serious again. “Did you take anything from her apartment?”
My face warmed. Whose side is this guy on?
Before I could answer, Detective Frost said, “Dr. Merrick, when my officers arrived, Ben was on the floor next to Megan, clearly doing his best to keep her alive. There was nothing to indicate that he took anything.”
“No. I didn’t take anything from her apartment,” I added. “Even if I wanted to, I was too busy trying to plug th
e bullet hole somebody put in her chest.”
Merrick and I locked eyes. I shivered. It was a side of him I had never seen.
Eventually, he turned to Frost, and said, “That’s all I have for now, detective.”
Frost slipped his pen into his pocket and shut his black book. “Okay, Benjamin, I think we’re good. I’ll let you know if we have any additional questions.”
There were still ten minutes left in first period. Instead of going back, I wandered the halls. Dr. Merrick had struck a nerve, and I couldn’t shake the idea that he thought I was somehow involved in Megan’s murder.
I stopped in an empty hallway and fell back into a row of lockers. I resisted the urge to punch them. As I sat on the cold concrete floor, my phone buzzed. Certain it was Sarah, I quickly pulled it from my pocket and checked the Caller ID.
Not Sarah.
I shut my eyes and sighed, knowing that answering meant reliving Monday night a second time in less than an hour. But I had no choice. Ignoring it would only delay the inevitable.
I lifted the phone to my face, and said, “Hi, Mom.”
17
“Mom!” I yelled into the phone. She couldn’t hear me over her own voice. Freaking out was a massive understatement. “Mom, I’m okay. Really.”
I held the phone at arm’s length and waited. Finally, after what felt like five minutes, she calmed down enough to speak.
“Benjamin, I still can’t believe it.”
“I know, Mom. I can’t either.”
“You weren’t hurt were you, baby? You’re okay?”
I winced at the word baby, then said, “Yeah, Mom, I’m okay. Whoever did it was already gone when I got there.”
I heard typing through the line. “Benjamin, I’m coming home. Just give me a few minutes to find a flight.”
I sighed. “Mom, please. You don’t need to do that. I’m okay. I have plenty to keep my mind busy.” Understatement of the century, I thought. “And Sofia is here. She’s taking care of me.”
“Benjamin . . .” my mom said, clearly shaken.
“Mom, it’s okay,” I continued. “I’ve got some experience dealing with this sort of thing.”
She hesitated, then said, “But Benjamin . . .”
“I know, Mom. But it’s okay. I’m fine.”
The line was silent for a full minute. I knew the internal debate she was having. Her heart was telling her to come home and take care of her son. Her brain was telling her how important the trip was to my dad.
“You’ll be home in two weeks anyway for Thanksgiving,” I added.
“Okay, Benjamin,” she finally said.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
The bell rang signaling the end of first period. The halls immediately filled full of kids. Unable to hear my mom anyway, I said, “Mom, I have to run to class.”
She paused. “Okay, Benjamin. I love you.”
“I love you, too, mom.”
Just before I hit END, a thought crossed my mind. “Mom?”
“Yes honey?”
The hall was noisy now, so I stepped inside an empty classroom. Satisfied nobody was within earshot, I asked, “I had . . . cancer. Right?”
As I expected, the words sounded just as crazy as they did thinking them. My mom’s reaction confirmed it.
“Did you have cancer?” She laughed. “That’s kind of a silly question, Benjamin. Why are you asking?”
I hesitated. “I dunno. Been thinking about Megan a lot this week. Guess it got me thinking about being sick, too.”
“I understand, Benjamin. I still think about it more than I care to admit.”
I silently groaned. “I know it’s a stupid question,” I said. “But, you saw it right? Like the x-rays or something?”
“Of course, honey. When the doctors first told us about your diagnosis, they showed us the MRI images and results of the biopsy from the bump on your knee.”
Just then a teacher walked into the room, followed by several students. Each shot me a questioning glance.
“Oh yeah, I remember now,” I said, needing to get off the phone. “Thanks, Mom. I better run. I love you.”
I hung up and made my way across school toward my next class. Megan’s words repeated over and over in my mind.
You never had cancer.
You never had cancer.
You never had cancer.
18
That afternoon I walked into history class and sat at my usual desk in the back of the room. The seat next to me was empty, so I looked around for Mason. And in a week full of surprises, I saw what may have been the biggest one. He was seated in the front row. Right next to Holly Brennan.
Perhaps sensing my shock from across the room, he turned, grinned, and pointed at the empty seat next to him. I shot back my best you’re crazy look. No way I was sitting in the front row. Not in Mrs. Bradley’s class. The bull’s-eye on my head was already big enough.
When Mason realized I wasn’t joining him, he stood and stormed to the back of the room. “Dude, what’s your deal,” he said. “Come up there and sit with me.”
“Um, what’s my deal?” I replied. “You want to sit in the front row with your little girlfriend, be my guest. I’m staying back here.”
“Oh come on,” Mason said. “Holly says Mrs. Bradley really isn’t that bad. She’s just misunderstood.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
When I didn’t answer, Mason said, “Fine, whatever. Hey, what are you doing tonight?”
The bell rang, signaling the start of class. I worried Mrs. Bradley would notice us. The last thing I needed was another of her verbal quizzes. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “But go before Bradley sees us.”
“Come to the movies with me and Holly tonight,” Mason pressed. “Maybe she’ll bring a friend.”
“Fine,” I said, just wanting him to leave. “Now go.”
He slapped me on the back and headed back toward the front of the room.
Without a hello or good afternoon, class, Mrs. Bradley dove straight into a lecture on how poorly everyone (except Holly) did on the midterm exam. She also stated that, due to a technical error, she wouldn’t be able to release the grades until Monday. Nobody seemed disappointed.
Ten minutes into the lecture, my phone buzzed. Mrs. Bradley, able to hear the faintest hint of a phone ringing—silent mode or not—stopped her lecture and peered around the room.
The entire class froze.
After what seemed like an eternity, she returned to her lecture. When she looked down to read from the textbook, I slipped out my phone and glanced at the screen.
Sorry about the other night. Meet after school?
Sarah.
I grinned and felt a sudden sense of relief. I waited until Bradley turned her back, then typed a simple response.
K—in class
Hoping Sarah would wait to text me back, I pocketed my phone.
I looked up and saw Mrs. Bradley staring at me from the front of the room.
Does she have some sort of Ben happiness radar?
“Mr. Raine, since you seem so happy today,” she boomed. “Why not answer a few questions?”
Less than a minute after the final bell rang, I received another text message from Sarah.
Picnic area
I replied: OMW
I grabbed my bag from my locker and hurried through the school. The outdoor picnic area was near the back of the school grounds. On most days during the week, it was a popular hangout. Not on a Friday. Other than Sarah, it was empty.
She sat on top of a picnic table, hunched over her laptop.
“Hey, Ben,” she said as I walked up.
“Hi, Sarah.” She was smiling, which I figured was a good sign. I hoped for the sweet, listen intently to my story Sarah and not the call me a jerk and punch me in the arm Sarah.
I climbed onto the table and sat next to her. “How are you?”
“Good. Just doing a little research.”
“On?�
�
A mischievous smile crossed her lips. “You.”
I angled to get a better look at her screen. She was on the Colorado Pediatric Hospital website again. “Um, me?”
“Yeah, you. I’ve spent the last two days in the library coming up with a plan to hack the hospital network.”
“Really? I stopped by there at lunch to find you.”
“Checking up on me?”
My cheeks turned pink. “Kinda. Just want to see if you were okay. The last time . . .”
Sarah closed her laptop and stuffed it into her bag. “I’m fine. Sorry about how I reacted. Probably not what you were expecting.”
“Just worried I scared you,” I said with a shrug. “Pretty sure I said too much.”
“No, not at all. I’m glad you told me. Makes me want to help you even more.”
“So you’re going to help me?”
“Of course,” she replied, smiling.
“When you left the money, I thought you had decided not to.”
“Yeah, I just forgot it. Was in a hurry to get out of there.”
I shrugged. “Sofia found it before I did.”
Her smile faded. “Oh no . . . did I get you in trouble?”
“Nah. But I did have to make up a story. Told her your computer broke and I had offered to loan you the money to fix it.”
“Did that work?”
“Yeah. Although she did tease me a little about wanting to help the cute girl.”
“Cute girl?”
My face flushed, again. I had known Sarah for two days and already had a habit of sticking my foot in my mouth around her.
She laughed and climbed off the table. “Come on, Ben, let’s go.”
“Go?”
“Yep,” she replied. “Unless you’ve got plans tonight.”
I thought back to history class. What should I do? Mason, Holly, and some strange girl? Or Sarah?
A millisecond later, I said, “No plans.”
We walked across the grass together, headed for the student parking lot.
