Night Sky

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “Exactly.” Dana didn’t say anything else about it, so I just nodded. “Come on.” She pointed to the road ahead.

  We walked a little bit in silence. My head pounded from crying so hard, and I was exhausted.

  “I think what you did earlier was really cool, by the way,” Dana mentioned. “When you were honest about the fact that my bike made you uncomfortable. It’s awesome that you admitted you were afraid. Not a lot of people are willing to do that.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

  “The deal is,” Dana continued, “that nobody can face their fear until they admit that they’re afraid.”

  She must’ve sensed my skepticism, because she kept going. “Courage isn’t being invincible, Sky. It’s knowing that you’re not, and taking risks anyway. It’s knowing you’re afraid, and taking action regardless.”

  I nodded.

  “We’ll get you on that bike,” Dana promised, slapping me cheerfully on the back. “I promise.”

  Yay? I started to pull out my cell phone to call Calvin to come pick us up.

  But Dana stopped me. “Don’t call Scooter,” she said.

  “Why? He’s our only way home.”

  “Not true,” she said, marching back toward the main road. “You said you want me to teach you everything, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Today, I’m going to teach you a little bit about public transportation.”

  And with that, I followed Dana to a nearby bench, where we sat and waited patiently for what would officially be the first public bus ride of my life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After we made it back to the school parking lot, Dana took off on her bike and I started walking home.

  I hadn’t had a chance to look in a mirror, but I hoped and prayed I didn’t look too swollen and miserable from all the crying. All I needed to make my day complete was the third degree from my mother when I got home. Although I realized that a little honesty would shut her down cold if I said the reality of Sasha’s death finally hit me. And maybe, in sympathy, she’d let me stay out an extra half hour on Saturday night.

  Yeah, dream on.

  My cell phone rang and I fished it out of my pocket.

  “How was training with GI Jane today?” Cal asked eagerly. “Did she make you yell Sir, yes, sir! and run down the beach carrying a telephone pole up over your head?”

  I laughed despite myself. “She’s not training me to be a Navy SEAL.”

  “Still…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. I kicked a branch across the sidewalk, remembering how I’d moved the bottle…and the vision of Sasha that had appeared in my mind as a result.

  “Eh, you suck,” Cal replied cheerfully. “Be that way. I’m really calling because my homework was killing me and I needed a caffeine infusion. So I came to CoffeeBoy and…”

  He didn’t need to finish. “Oh, no.”

  “Yep. Your mom’s back. So is Jolly Ol’ Jenkins.”

  I nearly choked. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Wish I were,” Cal said apologetically. “Man, they’ve gotta work on finding a different place for their little rendezvous, ’cause this is my damn CoffeeBoy. It’s the only one around here that still has hazelnut.”

  “Are they seriously together together? I mean, maybe they just happened to walk in at the same time.”

  “Doubtful,” Cal said quietly. “Wait a sec. I’m gonna try to see what they’re talking about.”

  “Okay,” I whispered back, keeping the phone pinned to my ear as I kept walking.

  There was a moment of silence, and then Calvin’s voice: “Hey, hey, hey! Ms. Reid! What’s up?”

  I heard my mom’s voice, but couldn’t quite make out what she said.

  “Yeah,” Cal answered her. “Just taking a break from the homework stuff.”

  Then Mr. Jenkins said something. His voice was as muffled as Mom’s had been—but it was definitely Jenkins. His tone cut through.

  “Oh, yeah,” Calvin responded. “Practice makes perfect, right?” A fake laugh. “Alrighty, then. Have a good one!”

  There was another brief pause, and then I heard Cal order his coffee. I waited for him to leave the shop.

  “I’m back,” Cal finally said into his phone.

  “What happened?” I tried to prepare myself for the worst.

  “Well, they were huddled in that same corner again,” Calvin replied. “I tried to roll up quietly, but like I said before, I’m kind of conspicuous. Anyway, I only heard a tiny bit of their conversation.”

  “And?”

  Cal cleared his throat. “Man, it was weird. It’s like, I don’t know exactly what they said. But they were definitely taking about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah,” Calvin replied, and laughed a little bit. “Talk about a parent-teacher conference, huh?”

  “Ugh.”

  “So, I heard your name mentioned, and your mom was looking all concerned, like they were discussing something really serious. And…sit down for this. Jenkins had his hand on your mom’s back, and he was rubbing her shoulders.”

  I stopped walking and stood in the middle of the sidewalk with my mouth hanging open. “What?”

  “I know. It’s nasty.”

  “Nuh-uh. It’s more than just nasty. It’s…unacceptable! Don’t they have laws for that kind of thing?”

  “Laws?” Cal asked.

  “I don’t know!” I sputtered. “It just seems so…wrong for a teacher and a parent to…do whatever it is they’re doing. They must have laws for that.”

  I could hear Calvin as he started his car. “Unfortunately, it’s not illegal. They jumped apart when I rolled up.”

  I shuddered at the very thought of Jenkins and Mom touching, kissing…having sex. I had this sudden awful, vivid image of my mom in her giant bathtub with bubbles up to her neck, and Jenkins in the doorway with only a towel around his waist, holding two glasses of champagne—and please, please God, let that have been my imagination and not some psychic vision.

  “Anyway,” Cal was saying, “you never know. He might have just been giving your mom some friendly parenting tips.”

  “Right,” I retorted, “because he really strikes me as the parental type.”

  “Or,” Calvin continued, “maybe your mom is trading sex to get you back into first-chair clarinet.”

  “Wow,” I said, “that’s even more awful than she’s lonely and desperate—which is awful enough. Plus? If that is what she’s doing, it’s not working. And speaking of not working, you should really stop wearing that hat. It looks ridiculous on you.”

  “What hat?” Cal asked, his voice cautious.

  “The hat that you’re wearing. You know, the little navy blue one. It makes you look like a disgruntled train conductor.”

  Cal scoffed. “Girl, first off, I’ll disgruntle your ass if you don’t watch it. And second, how did you know I was wearing it? I just put it on.”

  I paused. “Wait, what?”

  “The hat. I just put the hat on. I couldn’t find it forever, but it was tucked in between my wheelchair ramp and the driver’s seat. I don’t know how I spotted that shizz. It blended in.”

  I closed my eyes and did what I’d done earlier when I’d counted Dana’s tattoos from memory. I visualized Calvin’s car, down to the last detail—the rosary beads hanging from the rearview mirror, the pockmarks in the steering wheel from where Cal had picked away at pieces of the outer lining, the cup holders… Right now, there was a CoffeeBoy cup in one, Cal’s house keys in the other.

  I focused, and I could see his e-reader lying on the floor, its screen saver flashing the message: You are reading Modern Geometry, page 654. Next to that was his unzipped backpack. A red sweatshirt stuck out from the largest poc
ket.

  Tucked into the space in the car’s dash, where there should have been a car lighter, were receipts of various sizes and colors. I honed in on the top receipt, closing my eyes and reading.

  The print on the page was blotchy, as though the ink cartridge from the cash register was running on empty. But it was unmistakable. It was the CoffeeBoy logo, followed by today’s date.

  “That’s insane,” I mumbled, and opened my eyes.

  “What’s insane?”

  “I can see you.”

  “Girl, quit playing. Where are you?”

  “I’m walking to my house right now. Just left the school. But there are no cars around. And I can’t see you see you. But I can definitely see you.”

  “Yup. You’re definitely insane.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Well, I know that,” Cal said, sighing. “And a week ago, I’d have said that what you claim to be doing right now is impossible, but…you have a tendency lately to prove me wrong.”

  I closed my eyes again, willing myself to envision more details about real-time Calvin, but just as quickly it had appeared, it all vanished—like I’d pressed the stop button on a DVD.

  “Oh, man,” I said.

  “Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” Cal asked.

  “I just had another vision,” I said. I giggled a little bit. “But I had it in real time. Wow! It’s like I just mentally vurped you!”

  “Should I feel kind of violated?”

  “Vurp,” I repeated. “Like, video conferencing. They still have it up north—”

  “Vurp you,” Calvin said. “I know what vurping is. I was making a joke—”

  I interrupted him. “I’ve gotta get in touch with Dana again, A-SAP!”

  “A’ight,” Calvin said. “But first can you puh-lease tell me where you are so I can come pick you up? I’ve got an unfinished homework assignment just waiting for you.”

  “I’m not doing your homework for you,” I replied. “But if you want, you can pick me up and I’ll help you with it. I’m on Pineapple Boulevard, two blocks down from the school.”

  “Dang,” Cal said. “You really did have a vision. I’m nowhere near you. All right, just hang tight and I’ll be there in ten.”

  —

  I hadn’t been waiting long when a car slowed.

  I was lost in seriously disturbing thoughts of Mom and Mr. Jenkins, so I didn’t notice it wasn’t Calvin until after I’d scrambled to my feet.

  “Hey, I thought that was you,” Garrett said from his father’s convertible. He was alone in the car. “Need a ride?”

  “Nope,” I said, feeling no need to add a polite thank you as I folded my arms across my less-than-voluptuous chest.

  He hadn’t bothered to pull over—he’d just stopped right there in the middle of the street, and cars rushed by, some of them honking, others slowing and sneaking around him.

  But Garrett didn’t seem concerned about inconveniencing anyone. “Seriously,” he said, leaning over, pushing open the passenger door, and giving me what he no doubt thought was his sexiest smile. “Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

  I had to step back to avoid getting bumped by the door. “Seriously,” I said. “No. Calvin’s coming to pick me up. So…move it along, Tic-Tac dick.”

  It was Dana’s line, but I didn’t think she’d mind my borrowing it.

  Garrett’s eyes got disturbingly cold, and there was something ominous and dangerous in his voice as he said, “What’s your problem? I’m nice enough to offer you a ride, and all you can do is be rude?”

  Rude? I was rude? Of course, he had no idea that I’d overheard him saying all those awful things to Calvin.

  A white van with a ridiculous cartoon dog on the side lurched by, its tires squealing, startling me, and my heart started to pound.

  Still, I swallowed my anxiety and stood there on the sidewalk, ready to give Garrett a serious piece of my mind.

  But before I could open my mouth to speak, I caught a whiff of something as familiar as it was foul.

  The sewage smell. It was back. With a vengeance.

  I looked at Garrett. And smelled the sewage.

  Garrett. Sewage. Garrett and sewage.

  “Get away from me,” I said, my voice low with emotion. I could feel my heart hammering a rhythm inside my chest, as my stomach heaved and churned.

  And I couldn’t stop myself. I turned and puked, right there on the sidewalk.

  “Gross,” Garrett said, reaching over to slam the car door shut. Without another word, he hit the gas and sped away.

  —

  By the time Cal pulled up, five short minutes later, I was fine.

  “I need to go to the beach,” I told him as he pulled away from the curb. “Can we go there?”

  Calvin looked surprised for a moment, but then adjusted his ridiculous hat and nodded. “Okay, but could you fill me in, please? I’m feeling a little out of the loop here. And you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I pushed Cal’s backpack to the side so my feet had more room. His e-reader was still flashing that info about page 654 of his geometry text, and I shoved the thing into his backpack, pushing his sweatshirt down too and zipping the pack shut. “Okay. First of all, I just had a run-in with Garrett.”

  Calvin’s expression didn’t change, but I felt the tension in the air multiply exponentially.

  “He stopped and offered me a ride. And you were right about him, by the way. Not that I need to convince you, but he’s definitely douche-tastic. Beyond douche-tastic, actually.” I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Cal, I think he might be dangerous.”

  Calvin shot me a look that was steely. “Did he hurt you?”

  “What? No! Of course not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  Calvin nodded, his jaw clenched.

  I glanced anxiously out the window. “But that awful smell came back. It was so bad that I threw up.”

  “On Garrett?” he asked hopefully, before he realized that probably wasn’t the question he was supposed to ask. He reached down into a pocket in the driver’s side door and pulled out an unopened bottle of water, handing it to me. “Are you okay?”

  “No, to Garrett,” I told him as I gratefully opened the bottle and took a long, refreshing drink. “And yes, to okay. I think the smell hit me harder than it did before, because of what happened during training.” I told him about the vision I’d had of Sasha, and the muscles jumped in his jaw. “But you know what it means, don’t you—the smell?” I came back to what had happened with Garrett. “Dana and Milo told us to watch out for it. The sewage. That smell represents pure evil.”

  Calvin looked skeptical for only a moment. Then he pulled on the brim of his blue hat and sighed. I knew he had no choice but to believe me. “So explain how any of this calls for a walk on the beach.”

  “I think that Garrett spends most of his time over at his dad’s house. It’s waterfront property. He brought me there on Saturday when he was trying to impress me.”

  Calvin grunted.

  “I just… If that smell was so strong when he drove up today…maybe there’s a connection. Maybe Garrett had something to do with Sasha’s murder.” I glanced at Calvin. He was back to looking skeptical.

  “I don’t know, dude. Garrett as the homicidal, conspiratorial drug dealer slash kidnapper slash little-girl killer? I mean, he’s douche-y to the max, but I think you’re giving him a little too much credit. If that makes any sense.”

  Garrett was way too much of a himbo to be a criminal mastermind, even if he’d wanted to be. “It does. But it still doesn’t explain why I smelled the nasty smell when I was talking to him today.”

  Calvin almost pulled into the public beach, but I motioned for him to keep driving straight.

  “It’s down this way,” I said, remembering the route
that Garrett had taken.

  We drove past the long beach reeds before arriving at the end of the sandy path. The mansion loomed several hundred feet to our right. The late-afternoon sunlight reflected across its garish windows. Garrett’s midlife-crisis convertible was parked in the semicircular driveway.

  Calvin whistled. “Man, really?” he mumbled as he stared at the massive house. “I think we get it already. You’ve got money. You’ve got a lot of money. Shee-it.”

  I nodded my agreement. “It’s obnoxious.”

  Calvin pulled to the side of the road and put his car into Park. We were far enough away so that if Garrett stepped out of his house or even looked out the windows, he wouldn’t be able to see us lurking there. Calvin lowered my window. “Smell anything? And do lean out of the car if your answer is ralph.”

  But I shook my head. Unfortunately, we were also far enough away so that I couldn’t detect the stench as I had earlier. “Nope,” I said, popping the P.

  “Do you think we should get closer?” Calvin said, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. I unclicked my seat belt so that I could have more room to bring my feet up beneath me on the passenger seat. “I mean, what if Garrett really is dangerous?”

  Calvin tapped his fingers on his steering wheel and stared at the mansion. “Maybe we should wait and talk to Dana about this.”

  I exhaled my frustration. “So, now what? We do nothing until she feels like showing up again?”

  “We could go into Harrisburg,” Calvin suggested. “See if she and Milo are looking for Edmund—Whoa, wait. Sky. Look.”

  I lifted my head to see that someone had exited the house.

  It wasn’t Garrett. It was a man, probably in his late forties or early fifties. He had the same dark hair as Garrett, and he wore dark sunglasses and a black suit, and held a cell phone to his ear. With swift movements, he beeped open the BMW convertible before hopping into the car and pulling out of the driveway.

  Calvin and I both realized it at the same time—he was heading straight toward us. We both ducked down in our seats as he went sailing past.