And she had her first real boyfriend. Jesse had come to the house twice this week to help Harper with her science homework—a presentation on global warming—and the kid knew his stuff. Not just a boyfriend but a student with prowess. Jane had to hide her glee for fear that Harper would discover his inner nerd and dump him.
On Thursday word came that Olivia was being released from the hospital.
“She still doesn’t remember the attack,” Luke told Jane over the phone. He had been getting information from Gray Tarkington, who had decided it was not wise for a school administrator to talk about Olivia with any of the school parents, even if that parent taught at the school. Gray could be so maddening and frustrating, especially since he knew Jane would get the information in a roundabout way.
“Does Olivia remember being afraid of someone that afternoon?” Jane asked as she paced the backyard, pulling weeds and replenishing the bird feeder. “Was she chased? Is she blaming anyone in particular?”
“Nope. No memory, and she’s being gracious about it. As if she’s embarrassed that she can’t remember. The doctors say that her memory could come back in a week or a month—even a year—but there’s no guarantee.”
“The police can’t be happy about that.” Jane thought about Detective Drum with his easy demeanor and bad knees. Would he leave the case on hold and go in for his surgery as scheduled? Would the department drop the investigation for the time being? “I just can’t believe that someone could be attacked that way, beaten, and no one heard or saw a thing.”
“We don’t know that. Just because there’s been no arrest, it doesn’t mean the police don’t have some incriminating witness statements,” Luke pointed out. “They may have a suspect in their sights. Maybe they’re sitting on him or her until they have enough evidence to build a case.”
Jane dropped a handful of weeds into the bin and paced back toward the deck. “It’s driving me crazy. I wish I knew who attacked Olivia.”
“I think everyone feels that way.”
“Everyone isn’t under scrutiny the way Harper and I are. I want this to be over.” She thought about calling Detective Drum to ask about the case. After all, he had given her his card and told her to call. But she suspected his intention was to get more information from Jane, not to give it out.
Friday was the first home football game of the season, and Harper, who usually could not care less, was suddenly revved up and ready to roar for the Mirror Lake team. Jane suspected that Harper’s enthusiasm was fueled by the opportunity to show off her new boyfriend, whom Harper had invited over for a bite before the game.
“I didn’t plan to make dinner,” Jane said when she came downstairs to find the two of them sitting with their thighs touching at the kitchen counter. “I figured we’d just grab something at the game. They’ll have pizza and hot dogs and soft pretzels. How does that sound?”
“I’m good, Ms. Ryan,” Jesse said, his dark eyes earnest and huge. Jane was impressed that he looked her in the eye. Some students didn’t warm up to eye contact until the fifth week of school.
“I’m so hungry,” Harper insisted, hopping off the stool and opening the fridge. “Why don’t I cook for you?” she suggested to Jesse.
Cook for him? Jane wanted to say. You don’t even cook for yourself.
“Do you like mac and cheese?” Harper lifted the box from the freezer.
Now there was something Harper could cook.
“Sure.” Jesse shrugged and smiled at Jane. “Are you going to the game, Ms. Ryan?”
“I am. I’ll be chaperoning.”
“That must be a pain, giving up your Friday nights for a work obligation.” This was more than she had evoked from Jesse Shapiro through all of freshman English.
“Sometimes it’s a drag toward the end of the season, especially on those cold, rainy nights. But tonight I’m looking forward to it.”
As Harper popped the block of macaroni into the microwave, they chatted about the football team and Jesse’s involvement in the school band. “We’ll be playing tonight from the bleachers,” he said. “That part’s kind of cool, getting the crowd revved up. But no half-time show, thank God. All that marching makes me feel like a marine recruit.”
“Do you wear uniforms?”
“We’re supposed to, but you know . . .” He looked down, his hair falling in his eyes. “The dog ate my homework.”
Jane laughed and left the two of them to eat while she took Phoenix out for a short run around the block. Once upon a time this big dog had been Harper’s main companion and confidante. Jane used to love overhearing Harper singing to Phee. She adored the way her daughter admonished the dog to stay safe when chasing the neighbor’s cat. “You have to be careful in the street, honey. It’s dangerous out there.”
But Phoenix had been replaced by the BFFs and now Jesse. Harper’s boyfriend. Well, at least she had picked an interesting one.
Jane let the kids walk to school while she stayed behind to clean up the mess Harper had left in the kitchen. Normally she would have made Harper load the dishwasher, empty the overflowing recycling bin, and wipe down the kitchen counters, but she restrained herself from instituting martial law in front of Jesse. She didn’t want to embarrass Harper, but how could the girl walk away from splatters of chocolate milk and sticky, neglected macaroni noodles? It was as if she didn’t even see it.
It was the perfect night for football—cool and clear, with a smiling, chiseled moon illuminating an inky indigo sky. Jane’s annoyance was quickly chased away by the spectacle of Friday night football. The brilliant lights that turned night to day. The booming bass and brass of the school band. The roar of the crowd and the all-American drawl of the announcer’s voice. The coziness of burrowing into a fleece jacket to ward off the night’s chill.
It was easy to locate Harper, adoring her guy from a spot on the track that surrounded the football field. Along with Emma and Sydney, she flitted along, stopping to chat with other kids, exchanging hugs and laughing. They skipped ahead, shrieked about something, and then raced to the concession stand. Girls.
For the first hour Jane and Mina “patrolled” the area behind the goalpost that backed up to the golf course, talking with kids and, mostly, making sure that they stayed on this side of the barrier marking off the end zone. This part of the field was the unofficial hangout for junior high kids, who came to the high school game in droves, testing the waters of the future. The girls giggled together, munching Pixy Stix and Red Vines licorice. The boys brought Frisbees and footballs of their own, trying to form pickup games on the practice fields. Jane had already learned a few names tonight, knowing that they would be her students in the next two years.
As she strolled past groups of kids, she noticed an elderly woman struggling down the steps of the bleachers, aided by a teenage girl. Leaving so soon? Jane thought. The woman seemed ill or debilitated in some way, though it didn’t seem to be an emergency. The girl helping her down the uneven steps could have been Harper with her dark hair and trim shape. Was this the new girl, Isabel? She did have a slight resemblance to Harper. Although my daughter would never be so patient with an old lady.
When Jane and Mina were relieved of their post by two other teachers, Jane cut behind the bleachers and noticed a familiar face on the path to the school.
“Detective Drum?” She paused in front of the man watching the game from the summit of the path. “I didn’t know you were an Osprey fan.”
He dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m a fan of Mirror Lake. I was hoping to blend. After last week, we wanted to have a police presence here, but didn’t want to upset anyone. One or two cops are okay, but more than that and people get to wondering what’s going on. The beefed-up security has the opposite effect; folks start to feel scared.”
She glanced toward the back of the bleachers, dark and dense from this angle. “So there are other cops working undercover tonight?”
“Indeed. Protect and serve, that’s our first priorit
y.”
“It’s nice to know we’re safe.” She steeled herself to ask the question that had been bothering her all week. “I don’t mean to pry, but can you tell me if you have any suspects? In the Olivia Ferguson attack, I mean.” As if assaults were an everyday occurrence in Mirror Lake.
“We have a few,” he said. “One in particular that I was going to ask you about.” He swiped across the screen of his cell phone and tapped on it. “This photo came in with a note. It said that this photo was taken near the boathouse around the time Olivia was found in the lake.”
The suspect? Jane hungrily scanned the photo.
It was Harper. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing the turquoise tank top that emphasized her sculpted biceps. Had Harper worn that top to the picnic? Jane couldn’t remember.
“Is that your daughter?” Drum asked.
“It looks like her, but I don’t really see the boathouse in the background, and I’m not sure she was wearing that shirt that day.” She shook her head. “This doesn’t prove anything, does it?”
“On its own, no. We have to look at the preponderance of evidence.”
Suddenly, Jane saw the puzzle pieces fitting together.
The method was the bat.
The means? Harper knew the exact route to sneak around the perimeter of the swim park, hiding in the bushes so that no one could see her carrying a bat.
The motive? Everyone at Mirror Lake High School knew the answer to that one.
And the tiny admission Harper had made to Jane when she’d crawled into her bed that night. Admitting that she felt guilty. She’d done something wrong. Something about turning over a new leaf in the future.
The big picture gave Jane a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“It’s hard to lend credence to a tip when it’s anonymous,” the detective said. “We know that these kids are competitive. There’s backstabbing, and there’s jealousy. All that high school drama. Still, we check everything out.”
“And you’re investigating Harper?”
“As I said, we pursue every lead.”
Expecting disapproval, she steeled herself to meet his thoughtful eyes, but saw only compassion there.
“Take good care of your daughter,” he said. “Even living in the bubble, some of these kids make bad choices.”
She nodded, despite the sick feeling that her daughter’s fate was completely out of her hands.
Chapter 17
Although no one was ever charged with the attack on Olivia, the cloud of suspicion over Harper lifted a bit over the next few weeks as Olivia healed at home and the scandal of the attack was displaced by other high school dramas. A student from a high school across the Willamette River was arrested for homicide after his stepfather had been found stabbed to death, allegedly in retaliation for years of abuse. That was grist for the mill through the end of September. Then, in October, Brett Zilka, a sophomore at Mirror Lake High, was rushed off by an ambulance after cutting his head on the back steps of the school. Rumor had it that he’d passed out after smoking salvia with friends, but as that part was unconfirmed, Brett was allowed to return to school a week later with a gnarly red gash on his forehead.
Catching Brett in the hall one morning, Jane reminded the boy to keep the wound covered with an antibiotic ointment. “That’ll help the scar heal.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “But it’s kind of a badge of honor, you know?”
“Maybe now. But in a few years, it’s going to be a little played out.”
“I guess.”
Watching him swagger down the hall, Jane wasn’t sure if he’d learned his lesson from the incident. Brett still seemed to hold that teen notion that he was invincible, and he had the scar to prove it. Life in the bubble tended to encourage that false sense of security.
One Tuesday afternoon in the end of October Jane parked in front of the Suzuki home to pick up Harper. Dismissal had been at noon so that teachers could spend the afternoon working on midterm grades, and Keiko had offered to host the girls after school. But as luck would have it, Tuesday was Harper’s day to meet with Mrs. Albertson, the math tutor—a new addition to Harper’s schedule, but a necessity. The current geometry curriculum was way beyond Jane’s math knowledge, and so far Harper seemed to click with Mrs. A’s teaching style.
Jane arrived to find Sydney and Harper in the side yard by the water feature, a dripping circular fountain. Nestled in their team hoodies, they sat on the stone bench, sharing a plastic bowl of popcorn.
“I see two ospreys,” Jane called, amused by their matching shirts.
“Hi, Ms. Ryan,” Sydney said politely.
“Mom!” Harper jumped up so abruptly she nearly spilled the popcorn. She handed the bowl to Sydney and raced forward to embrace Jane.
“Wow.” Jane hugged her, surprised but pleased at the sudden show of affection. “Did you miss me that much?”
“I’m just really happy to see you.”
When Harper leaned back, Jane noticed her mouth curled in a sweet smile. What a difference an afternoon off could make. “Where’s Emma?” Jane asked.
“She’s upstairs with—”
“She’s watching a movie,” Harper said, cutting Sydney off. “We already saw it, and we wanted to get some fresh air. It’s so beautiful out here, with the leaves bursting in color. The crisp feel of autumn.” Her words sounded lyrical, almost poetic.
“It is a nice day.” Jane stretched her spine and rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ve been so caught up in getting grades in, I hardly noticed.”
“You do work so hard,” Harper agreed, admiration shining in her eyes.
“Um . . .” Sydney backed toward the door. “We’d better get back inside.”
“I guess it would be too much to hope that you girls got some homework done,” Jane said.
“I finished all of mine.” Harper’s voice was bright, with the tone of a delighted child.
“Amazing.”
Jane followed them through the slider to the kitchen, where Keiko was stirring a pot. “Hey, there,” Jane called to Emma’s mom as the girls bustled up the stairs. “Thanks for taking the girls this afternoon.” Jane leaned on the cool granite of the kitchen island.
“It was my pleasure.” Keiko tapped the spoon against the edge of the pot, and then looked up at Jane. “They’re such good friends. I know we love keeping our girls active in sports, but it’s nice to see them having some downtime, too.”
“I’m looking forward to a little downtime, myself,” Jane said. Weekends had been busy with three softball tournaments: west of Portland in Banks, south in Eugene, and east in Bend, where Oregon’s ponderosa pine forest transitioned into high desert. Each trip had been like a mini-vacation, social and active and a great change of venue, but Jane longed for a little cozy solitude. “It will be a nice change, sleeping in on weekends now that the season is over.”
“That’s true,” Keiko agreed. “But basketball is just around the corner. Tryouts in two weeks.”
Jane gave an exaggerated groan, and they chuckled together.
“One sport at a time,” Jane said. She heard footsteps on the stairs behind her.
“Mom?” The whining tone in Harper’s voice was like a splinter under the skin. “Do I really have to go right now? Why don’t you just cancel?”
“Because it’s geometry, and your frazzled mother can’t help you with it anymore.”
“I gave up on Emma’s math years ago. Good thing her father can help her. That’s his strong suit.”
“I don’t wanna go today,” Harper moaned. “We’re having fun, and everyone else can stay.”
Jane turned to her daughter, who had changed from her team hoodie to a turquoise sweatshirt that brought out the teal hues in her eyes. “You changed your clothes?” She squinted at Harper. “And apparently your mood, too. What happened to the sweet girl I met outside?”
Harper bit back a smile.
“What?” Jane pressed.
&nb
sp; “Never mind. Let’s just go.”
They thanked Keiko and headed out. The grumbling persisted as they got into the car, but Jane tuned it out as she focused on the next few steps of her day. She would drop Harper at the tutor’s, then return to school to finish up. Then swing by to pick her up. But what for dinner? Frozen veggie lasagna or tacos? Maybe fish sticks . . .
She was about to back out of the Suzukis’ driveway when one last look through the windshield brought her gaze to the window. A ghostly Harper stared wistfully down on them as she pressed a hand to the glass in an enigmatic gesture. A farewell or a warning?
Jane pumped the brakes and squinted. Was it a refraction of the glass, a trick of sunlight—or was she dissociating?
“What’s wrong?” Harper said it as a criticism, as in, What the hell is the matter with you?
“The girl in the window. I thought it was you, but . . .” But it can’t be; you’re right here beside me.
“Mom, there’s no one there.”
“What?” She shot a look back at the window, but there was only a blank space now. “But she was there. A girl with long dark hair. She was wearing an Osprey hoodie. I would have sworn it was you.”
“Let’s just go.” Now there was disgust in Harper’s voice.
Jane tried to put the vision behind her as she drove away. She had a million things to finish today, and she didn’t need some strange apparition of her daughter clamoring in her mind.
“Okay, now I feel bad.” Harper was facing away, but her scowl was reflected in the car window. “It was just a little game. A joke. Everybody says she looks like me, so we figured we’d see how far we could go with it.”
Jane kept her eyes on the road ahead, but her fingers clamped tighter around the steering wheel. “What are you talking about?”
“The girl in the window? That was Isabel, the new girl. And she was the one sitting outside with Sydney when you pulled up. That wasn’t me.”
Take Another Look Page 16
