Take Another Look

by Rosalind Noonan

  “How would she know? The bat was stolen from her bag. I told you about it.”

  “I remember. That was one of the reasons I could identify it so quickly.”

  Jane’s mind was spinning. “You know Harper. She would never do anything like that.” Like what? Use her bat to conk Olivia on the head?

  Even as Jane objected, her words rang false in her ears, reminding her of the vapid parents who defended their wicked little darlings.

  “Look . . .” Gray paused, fumbling in silence for a moment. “Harper’s a good kid, but everyone knows about the bad blood between Olivia and your daughter.”

  “Yeah. It’s no secret.” Hadn’t Jane and two dozen other witnesses seen Harper come after Olivia with Blue Lightning in her hands? “But rivalry is one thing. Knocking another kid unconscious . . . that’s not Harper. Most of our students wouldn’t cross that line.”

  “I hope not.” The distress was apparent in his usually deadpan voice. “I’m sorry, Jane. I don’t mean to insinuate anything about your daughter, but I do want the cops to get to the bottom of the attack on Olivia.”

  “So it was an attack? Is that confirmed?”

  “I think so, but I can’t say for sure. They took the bat as evidence . . . a possible weapon. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have called. I don’t want to give you misinformation. You need to talk to the police.”

  He was right about that, but the prospect of facing the police right now was like a knife in her gut.

  After a conversation with Luke, Jane decided to take control of the situation and contact the police.

  “Tell them you heard that they found your daughter’s softball bat and that she needs it for this afternoon’s game,” Luke advised.

  “Will they really believe I’m that naïve?”

  “Hey, they don’t know you watch Law & Order. And maybe Gray was wrong. Olivia could have hit her head on the dock as she fell into the water. They’ll determine that from the size and angle of the wounds—that part is science, but I doubt the investigation has gotten that far yet. And maybe they’ve ruled out assault. Who knows? They might just give the bat back to you.”

  Despite Luke’s logic, Jane still found the idea of confronting the police daunting. “Maybe I should hire a lawyer.”

  “For what? Even if the bat was used as a weapon, it doesn’t mean Harper was the person who wielded it. Save your money. Talk to Harper. Make sure she has her story straight; a police interview can be very intimidating, even when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “That’s why I’m worried.”

  “As long as she doesn’t get rattled, she’ll be fine.”

  Jane ended the call with Luke, and then phoned the precinct. A detective named Eldon Drum thanked Jane for calling and agreed to see them this morning. Sick with worry, Jane moved to the stairs.

  Waking Harper was never a joyful task. Jane eased the blinds open and started by saying there’d been a change of plans.

  Harper must have sensed the tension in her mother’s voice. “What happened?” She opened her eyes and stared sternly at the ceiling.

  When Jane told her that they had an appointment at the police precinct, Harper sat up suddenly. “Wait. Why?”

  “They found Blue Lightning near the boathouse.”

  Harper grinned. “They found it!”

  “That’s the good news, I guess. The police think someone might have used it to hit Olivia. That would make it a part of the crime scene—an assault weapon. I suspect they want to ask you how the bat got there, and where you were around the time when Olivia was found in the lake.”

  “They’re so stupid,” Harper whined. “How would I know how the bat got there when it was stolen?”

  “That’s exactly what you need to tell the police,” Jane said, “but in a much nicer tone.”

  Harper moaned as she plucked at Hoppy’s bow. “This is not what I wanted to do this morning.”

  “Same,” Jane returned, using her daughter’s shorthand.

  “But it’s better to get this over with. You don’t want to miss your game.”

  “Well, yeah.” Harper threw back the comforter of Jane’s bed. “Do you think they’ll give me the bat back? I really need it today. We’re playing Canby.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.” Jane pulled a pair of jeans from the drawer of her dresser, and then turned back to face her daughter. “As I said, they’ll want to know where you were when Olivia got hurt.”

  “Okay.” With Hoppy dangling from one hand, Harper plodded out.

  “Wait. Where were you?”

  “With Emma and Sydney.”

  Jane shook her head as a queasy feeling niggled at her. “I saw them. You weren’t there.”

  “Yes, I was. God, Mom.” And Harper disappeared down the hall.

  On the way to the precinct, Jane tried once again to nail down Harper’s whereabouts. “It’s important that you tell the truth,” Jane said, sparing a quick look of concern at her daughter before glancing back at the road. “If you change your answer in any small way, they’ll think you’re lying. You’ll lose all credibility, and they’ll begin to question everything you tell them.”

  Even to Jane, the warning seemed more like a lesson in swindling than an endorsement of trustworthiness. How had she raised Harper all these years without instilling important concepts like honesty and integrity?

  “I was with my friends, okay? What do you want me to say?”

  “Just the truth.” The real truth, Jane thought as her fib radar sounded the alarm. She sensed that Harper was hiding something. Time spent with a boy? With senior students? Alcohol? Drugs? She sighed, hoping that she wasn’t delivering her daughter to the lion’s den.

  As they entered the police station there was a moment of awkwardness when Jane acknowledged the female officer at the desk. The cold fish. The woman’s bland, flat eyes were uncaring, but they also gave no indication of recognition from the curfew incident. This meeting would be Jane’s third or fourth encounter with local law enforcement in as many weeks. You go fourteen years without even a traffic ticket, and suddenly you’re a precinct regular. She took a seat in the steel and plastic chair, hoping for another fourteen years of law-abiding peace.

  “Mrs. Ryan?” A graying man with a pleasant smile and twinkling eyes hobbled into the small waiting area. His skin tone, a rich mocha, suggested that he was mixed race. “I’m Eldon Drum.” He shook Jane’s hand, and then turned to Harper. “And this must be the softball star.”

  Harper glimmered, all blue eyes and shiny braces. “I’m Harper.”

  “I appreciate you coming in. Your mom told me you have a game later today.” He shuffled toward an office, obviously struggling with pain as he walked. “Don’t mind me. Bad knees. I’m getting some bionic replacements soon. Titanium! Until then, basketball is out.” He eased himself into a chair. “Now I know you play softball, Harper. How about hoops?”

  “My favorite sport.”

  As Harper talked basketball with the detective, Jane took a welcome breath of relief. Compared to old “Fish-eye” outside, this cop oozed personality. They had lucked out.

  “So let’s talk about your teammate, Olivia.” Eldon Drum had a patient yet energetic delivery, like a minister sharing a joke. He showed Harper a photo of Blue Lightning, and she nodded.

  “Sure looks like my bat.”

  He asked her when she’d seen it last, and she gave him the timeline: from practice at the school field to the swim park to stowing the bags behind the snack shack.

  “So the other girls brought their bags to the picnic. And they had softball bats with them, too?”

  “Most of them.”

  “Interesting.” He scraped back his hair, which curled over his collar in the back. Frank would have had a conniption over that haircut on a cop. He had been a stickler for the elite esprit de corps—a tight, buttoned-down dress code for officers. Annoyed with herself, Jane dug her fingernails into the flesh of her palms. Why was she dredging up a memory
of Frank as if he were an authority on law enforcement? Years ago she had worked, purposefully and tediously, to chase him from her psyche; perhaps it was time to reaffirm her commitment to sanity.

  While Jane was lost in reverie, the conversation volleyed between Harper and the detective, a smooth, uncontentious match. Eldon Drum did not shed any new light on Olivia’s injuries, and although he was cautious about making too many speculations, he believed that she had been attacked.

  “That’s a frightening thought,” Jane said, speaking up for the first time. “I know many of us have been hoping it was just an accident.”

  “Not from where I stand,” Drum said, “though I could be wrong. It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again. The human condition! Anyhow . . .” He turned back to Harper. “I appreciate your dragging your mom in here today. My job is to gather as much information as possible, and your cooperation is making my job much easier. I’d been wondering why anyone would bring such a nice softball bat to a park without a playing field; now I know why. But I have to say, I can’t imagine how that bat got from the area behind the snack shack to the boathouse without anyone seeing. There were hundreds of students in that park yesterday, and so far the kids we canvassed do not recall seeing anyone walking around with a blue and silver softball bat.”

  “Actually?” Harper’s blue eyes were earnest. “There’s an easy way to do that without being seen.”

  What the hell? Jane shot her a scalding look, but her daughter was already explaining how the culprit could have disappeared into the bushes that lined the property’s border.

  “Show me on the map,” the detective said, pushing out of his chair to go to the satellite map pinned on the wall behind him.

  Her fingers tracing the dark line of shrubs and small trees, Harper showed Drum a route around the edge of the park. “Even if you climb the fence to the neighbor’s yard, they don’t mind,” she said. “Kids do it all the time.”

  Staring at the map, the detective rubbed his jaw. “This I did not know. Wow. That answers that question. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Jane stared at her beautiful daughter and wondered if the teen was simply naïve or manipulating them all for some mysterious reason.

  As the interview wound down, Drum steered the conversation to the question Jane had tried to prepare her daughter for.

  “Did you see Olivia in the water?” he asked. “Were you nearby?”

  Harper shook her head. “I was hanging out with my friends. We were pretty far from the boathouse.”

  “Do you want to show me on the map?”

  Jane watched as Harper pointed to a spot near the center of the park—not far from the Ping-Pong tables where Jane had been at that crucial time. Harper was either lying or confused.

  “Okay. Were these friends girls from the team?” he asked.

  “No.”

  No? Jane bit her lower lip as she reconsidered the lecture she’d given about honesty.

  “I was with my friend Teddy Pitari,” Harper offered. “And a senior girl. She’s not really a friend, but Teddy knows her. Abby Dobler.”

  Jane had to restrain herself from pouncing on Harper for having poor judgment. As a freshman student, Abby had been forgetful and inattentive—a C minus all the way. And last year, Abby had been suspended for smoking weed in the locker room while the rest of her PE class was outside on the track. She had followed that mundane offense up with a more creative e-blast of herself, topless, to a handful of male teachers. Luke had been relieved that he was not one of “the chosen.” The second offense had not earned a suspension, as Abby had contended that, while she’d posed for the photo, she had not sent it out. Cyberbullying was a tough charge for the administration to sort out; they did not have the resources or the laws to handle the complaint. The whole incident had left Jane feeling sorry for the girl, whose father was in jail and whose mother had not once attended a meeting to defend her.

  “But those aren’t her usual friends,” Jane said, as if that would clear Harper’s name in some way. “Her closest friends are Emma Suzuki and Sydney Schiavone.”

  Eldon Drum nodded sagely. Jane noticed that he hadn’t written anything down; she hoped that was a positive sign. He thanked them again for coming in and gave Jane his card. “Call if you have any questions.”

  She took the card, grateful to have this interview behind them.

  “And Harper,” Drum said, “I’m sorry I can’t return your bat, especially with you having a game today. You think you can blast one out of the park without it?”

  “I’m sure gonna try.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Chapter 16

  It was hardly a surprise that Mirror Lake won their Sunday afternoon game. Sure, Canby fielded a tough team, but these girls were a well-oiled machine when they were free of distractions like the Ferguson clan. Madison Lowe stepped into the gap caused by Olivia’s absence and demonstrated some untapped skills as shortstop. Harper hit two home runs on a borrowed bat and made some phenomenal plays at home.

  At the game, the parent contingent was subdued. Jane sensed neither an outpouring of sympathy for Olivia nor a torrent of vigilante fury toward Harper. Some didn’t even know about Harper’s bat; others didn’t seem to be jumping to conclusions, though Jane did notice two moms staring at Harper and whispering behind their hands. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Luke reassured her with a blunt text:

  You’re being paranoid.

  A greater concern was the possibility of a violent fiend on the loose, most likely a student from the high school, someone passing their kids in the corridors. People were spooked, but with so little reliable information available, they kept the picnic incident out of their conversations.

  After the game, Jane had no desire to attend the victory celebration at Pizza Kingdom. She was tired and worried, and there were those assignments to grade, but it was important to save face. “All eyes are on us now,” she had told Harper that morning. “We need to stay positive, be friendly, and speak kindly of Olivia.”

  “Just saying, that sounds really dumb,” Harper said. “Who made up those rules?”

  “Just be nice.”

  “I am nice. And this is so unfair. I didn’t do anything wrong. Just because someone stole my bat, now I’m supposed to tiptoe around everyone. It’s just not fair.”

  “Life is not always fair.” Jane tried to keep the frustration from her voice. All things considered, people were giving Harper a pretty fair shake. But Harper didn’t see the big picture. On days like this, it was hard for her to see past the annoying zit on her chin.

  When Jane walked into the English faculty office Monday, she found one of the teachers ranting about lack of supervision at the picnic.

  “There’s no denying that a baseball bat is a lethal weapon.” Rob Horn was squaring off with Mary Ellen as he used the paper cutter to divide pink papers into small strips. This was the mandate of the last few years; to save paper, teachers now condensed assignments into chunks of tiny print, duplicated them on the same page, and then sliced each printed page into strips that reminded Jane of the blurbs from fortune cookies.

  “A lot of things can be used as weapons,” Mary Ellen said. “Lacrosse sticks. Polished apples. Paper cutters.”

  “What idiot let a bunch of girls walk in with baseball bats?” Rob asked.

  “I did,” Mary Ellen admitted. “They were softball bats, and they were stowed away in big, heavy canvas bags.”

  “We were both working the gate,” Jane added with a level look for Rob, who had always been a little leery of students since he’d left the junior high to teach here two years ago. He frequently commented on the hulking size of the senior guys and the incidents of violence in schools across the nation.

  He scoffed. “Then shame on you, too.”

  “Most of the girls on the softball team came straight from practice,” Jane went on. “I guess we forgot to walk them through the metal detector.”

>   Mary Ellen bit back a grin.

  “Oh, so funny.” Rob’s voice was thick with sarcasm. “It’s easy to be cavalier about security when you live in the bubble of Mirror Lake.”

  “Come on, Rob,” Jane coaxed. “We’re talking teenage girls here. Not a major threat.”

  “Yeah. Tell that to Olivia.” Rob collected his papers, stacking them quickly. “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.” His face was flushed with annoyance as he strode out of the office.

  “Ah, geez.” Jane sighed.

  “What a load of crap.” Mary Ellen stirred creamer into her coffee. “I don’t need that. You volunteer to work a school event and suddenly you’re supposed to possess superpowers.”

  Jane tried to laugh it off, but the shadow of the picnic followed her. Later that day in the school library she noticed that a table of parent volunteers went completely silent as she approached. Their staring eyes seemed to drill at her back like hornets as she led her class to the computer room.

  On Tuesday Dr. Gallaway stopped by Jane’s classroom to ask how Harper was holding up. Jane wasn’t sure if she meant under the strain of suspicion or the fear of a maniac on the loose. But she didn’t press the matter, and when Jane told her that Harper was fine, the principal moved on. If Kathleen Gallaway had been a more accessible person, Jane would have asked her about the investigation. She was dying to know who had attacked Olivia. But information was sparse. The school said only that they were cooperating with the police investigation, and the police said nothing.

  The whole thing bothered Jane more because she knew that something was up with Harper. Of course, she knew that Harper hadn’t done it, but had she been involved in some way? An accomplice? It was a concern. Jane longed for answers, but feared the truth.

  At least Harper wasn’t worried, and that made life pleasant in the Ryan household. Harper liked her new teachers and had high hopes for achieving decent grades this year without “killing” herself. Her spot as team catcher was secure for the time being. She had befriended the new girl and was lobbying for a sleepover to bring all of her friends together.