I shook my head. “Not important. What is important is that you tell me what you were going to tell me at the park.”
Nicky bit the inside of his cheek. He looked down at his hands. “I don’t remember.”
He was the worst liar ever.
“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” I asked, desperation kicking in.
He looked up at me again. “I got hit on the head. I don’t remember.”
“You’re totally lying.”
“Prove it,” he said jutting his chin forward.
Since I couldn’t, I changed tactics. “Who attacked you?”
He shrugged. “I got hit from behind. I didn’t see anyone.”
“But I saw you arguing with the person first! You must have seen his face then?”
He paused, something flitting across his eyes. If I’d had to guess, I’d say it was fear. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t remember that.”
“Look, if you’re scared of this guy, the police can protect you. Just tell me what you know. Once it’s out in the open, you’ll be safe.”
“Right.” He snorted. “Last time I decided to tell you something I got my head bashed in and ended up here,” he said, gesturing to the hospital room around him. “The only way I’m going to be safe is by keeping my big mouth shut.”
“Nicky, please,” I pleaded. Sam could only play sick for so long. Any second now, his mom would be back.
“I’ve said all I have to say.” He clamped his mouth shut for emphasis.
“Nicky-”
But that’s as far as I got, as Mom pushed through the doorway. Her eyes narrowed, clearly surprised to see me.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice holding a sharp edge that said a call to security was about half a second away.
“Uh… I’m…”-I quickly grabbed a pillow from behind Nicky and fluffed it-“I’m a candy striper. Yeah, I volunteer here at the hospital. Just came in to make sure our patient is comfortable.” I gave Mom a big toothy smile as I replaced Nick’s fluffed pillow.
Nicky opened his mouth to speak, but I shot him a death look.
He clamped it shut again.
“Oh,” Mom said, her posture relaxing. “In that case, do you have any magazines? I’d really love something to read in here.”
“Absolutely,” I lied. “No prob. One magazine coming up!” I ducked my head to avoid Mom reading the lie plainly written there.
Which was my fatal mistake.
I would have totally gotten away without anyone being the wiser if I’d just watched where I was going instead of plowing headfirst into someone else.
“Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry,” I said, whipping my eyes up.
Straight to Detective Raley’s.
Chapter Fourteen
“HARTLEY,” RALEY SAID.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, hi. We meet again, huh?” I commented, doing a poor attempt at humor.
Which, judging from the scowl on his face, was totally lost on him. He made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a snort and answered with a “What are you doing here?”
“I’m… uh…” I quickly looked around the nurses’ station for any sign of Sam, but thankfully, my accomplice was long gone. “I’m… volunteering,” I said, going with the same story I’d told Nicky’s mom. It was almost the truth. I mean, I had offered to get Nicky’s mom a magazine, right?
Raley narrowed his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Since when do you volunteer at the hospital?”
“Since today,” I squeaked out.
“Interesting timing.”
I bit my lip, but since he hadn’t phrased it in the form of a question, I didn’t feel compelled to answer.
Raley looked from me to the doorway to Nicky’s room. “You just came from that room?”
I nodded. Slowly.
“Nicky Williams’s room?”
“Is it?” I asked, all mock innocence.
Raley’s eyes narrowed into fine slits. “Listen, Hartley. Nicky has a severe concussion. He was attacked by someone who meant to put him out of commission.”
I swallowed hard. “I know. I saw.”
“Then you know this is not some game. Until we find out what happened to Nicky, I don’t want to see you anywhere near him.”
“But I’m this close to finding out who killed Sydney,” I said, stretching the truth just a little.
Raley cocked his head to one side. He took a step forward. Then in his most fatherly voice said, “Hartley, I’m sorry, kid, but Sydney killed herself.”
I shook my head, feeling my hair whip my cheeks. “You’re wrong. It was Twittercide.”
His eyebrows headed north. “It was what?”
“Never mind. Look, she was killed. I’m sure of it. Nicky being hit practically proves it!”
“Nicky being hit means he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You kids shouldn’t be in the park after dark.”
“Seriously? You’re calling this a coincidence?”
Raley crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, as far as I can tell, the only thing Nicky and Sydney have in common is you.” He shot me a pointed look.
“Me?” I squeaked out. “You can’t possibly think I had anything to do with this.”
“What I think is that you have a serious problem minding your own business.” And with that, he grabbed my upper arm and steered me toward the elevator.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“But-” I started.
But Raley shut me up with one look, his evil eye staring down at me.
I clamped my lips together. Fine. The joke was on him. I needed a ride home anyway.
I sat in silence in the front seat of Raley’s beige sedan, trying hard not to inhale the stale scent of a hundred stakeouts lingering in the cheap fabric seats. The smell was somewhere between the locker room at the gym and the cafeteria when they forgot to take the garbage cans out after Meat(ish)loaf Monday. Luckily, it was a short drive, and I took in deep breaths of fresh air as soon as Raley opened the passenger-side door and propelled me up the walk to my front door.
Mom had it open before I even hit it, a sure sign that Raley had called ahead.
“Oh, Hartley, what have you done this time?” she asked, coming in for a hug.
“Geez, Mom, you make it sound like the police are always bringing me home.” Which was hardly fair considering it had been at least a good fifteen hours since it had last happened.
“She’s fine,” Raley assured her. “But I’d suggest keeping a close eye on her over the next few days. At least until we find out who attacked that boy in the park last night.”
Oh, that was a low blow. Calling in the SMother? As if I needed more parental supervision.
“Oh, don’t worry. I will!” Mom said. With just a little too much gusto if you’d asked me. I had a bad feeling Quinn’s grounding was going to look like a picnic next to my life.
“And thank you for bringing her home,” Mom continued.
“No problem.” Raley shot me a look. “I’m confident it will be the last time.”
I’m glad someone was.
“Can I thank you with a plate of cookies?” Mom asked. “They just came out of the oven.”
I was about to warn Raley that if they were Mom’s cookies, they were likely gluten-free, fat-free, dairy-free, and loaded with flaxseed, but considering the way he’d just sealed my fate with Warden Mom, I decided to let him fend for himself.
“Thanks, actually a cookie sounds great,” he said, following Mom into the kitchen.
On the downside, Raley was in my house. On the upside, it was the first time in days I’d seen Mom apart from her computer.
Not surprisingly, Mom put me on lockdown until the “park attacker” was caught. Which sucked because, with Raley barking up the wrong tree, I was pretty much the only one looking for the real attacker. Which I couldn’t do from my bedroom. I hate irony.
With lockdown mode firmly in place, Mom insisted on not only driving me to school but actually walking me to my first class. I kept my head down and prayed no one would notice.
It wasn’t until lunch that I had a chance to tell Sam and Kyle what had happened at the hospital. I caught up to the two of them in the cafeteria. Only, as I approached their table with my tray, I realized they weren’t alone. Chase was sitting next to Kyle, laughing about something on Kyle’s phone.