Skeleton Key

by Jeff LaFerney

  “You can always make him talk if you decide to,” Zander reminded Clay.

  “Hopefully I don’t have to resort to mind manipulation, but if that’s what I have to do to solve the mystery, I just might do it.”

  The Star Spangled Banner played and the lineups were introduced, so Clay’s attention was diverted. He was hoping that Tanner would get some quality playing time and do well.

  ***

  Darius Williams, Michigan’s starting point guard was having a great first half. He played the first eight minutes, scoring eleven points and dishing out four assists. Tanner subbed and played three uninspired minutes—his entire stat line consisted of one foul and one turnover—before Williams reentered the game. Clay was a bit disappointed, but he rationalized that freshman often had to go through some growing pains. A guard from Eastern dribbled the ball across half court and tapped his head to indicate a play. He faked a pass to his right and then fired a pass across the court to a teammate, but Williams anticipated the pass perfectly and intercepted it. Williams dribbled quickly down the court, intent on taking the ball to the basket for two more points. The guard from Eastern Michigan who had made the bad pass sprinted down the court and set himself in the lane, hoping to draw an offensive foul. Williams took the ball right at him, jumped, and then did an amazing three hundred and sixty degree spin in mid-air to avoid the charge, but the defender leaned into him anyway. Williams flipped the shot up and into the basket just before taking the hit, which caused him to turn awkwardly before returning to the floor. The crowd erupted in a tremendous cheer in appreciation of the amazing shot, but the crowd noise turned into nearly a complete hush as they heard both the loud snapping of his right ankle in a complete fracture and the near scream of painful agony as Williams crashed to the floor.

  The sight was awful. Williams’s foot was twisted in a grotesque angle causing the snapped anklebone to poke nearly through the skin. The foot was twisted sideways and down while the bone poked in the opposite direction. A cheerleader who saw the damage fainted right on top of the referee who was bending down to aid Williams. Other shocked cheerleaders and players alike turned away to avoid the horrific sight. Clay felt sick, the injury was so gruesome. The EMU player who committed the foul literally ran down the players’ tunnel where he threw up. Tears came to his eyes as Tanner watched his friend continue to yell out in pain. He fell to his knees in front of the bench and began praying for his teammate. Coach Beilein ran to Williams’s aid and held his hand while his starting senior point guard writhed around on the floor in anguish. Medical trainers rushed to his aid and the aid of the unconscious cheerleader. Once the referee pulled himself from under the girl, he helped his partners herd the players away from the scene.

  The next ten to fifteen minutes dragged by in near silence as a medical team padded, iced, and wrapped Darius Williams’s foot and eventually lifted him onto a stretcher to wheel him away to an ambulance. The entire Michigan team was noticeably as upset as Coach Beilein. They gathered around their coach and he suggested that the players say a prayer for Darius. Tanner volunteered to lead his team, but as he was praying, he decided to make use of his mental powers. He had sensed accurately that his team was in no mental state to effectively continue the game. “As we finish out this game,” Tanner ‘prayed,’ “we will be able to block out our worries and concerns for Darius, and we will maintain one hundred percent focus and intensity. We will do everything in our power to win this game for Darius. Amen.”

  As the Wolverines broke their huddle, their focus was undeniable. Tanner had to shoot the free throw that resulted from the foul on the Williams basket. He made it, and for the next twenty-eight minutes of playing time, the Michigan team put on an unbelievable performance. They turned a seven-point lead into a fifty-four-point victory. Tanner, as the only player whose mind was not manipulated, was the only player to miss a free throw the rest of the game. The defensive intensity was ferocious, drawing nine offensive charging fouls, diving recklessly all over the floor, and setting a team record for defensive deflections. And as their scoring onslaught indicated, their offensive execution was excellent as well.

  In the locker room after the game, Tanner reminded his teammates about Darius, and the players simply congratulated each other without celebrating. Coach Beilein complimented his team on their focus and intensity and praised them for having a common goal and carrying out its execution as a team. Players looked into each other’s eyes in a seeming realization of how much they could accomplish when they were mentally focused. Tanner couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a turning point in the team’s season. He knew he’d influenced their mental toughness, but he knew that each player had simply played to the best of his God-given ability and gave the most that he could give. Maybe in the future, they’d be able to do it again on their own.

  ***

  Tanner greeted his dad with a bear hug after the game. Clay looked in his eyes and saw sorrow. Maybe regret. Clay knew the feeling that regret brought when he felt he had abused his powers, so he was hoping the look was one of sorrow for the horrible injury to his son’s teammate. He led his son to an arena seat and they sat down next to each other to talk. “What’s on your mind, Son?”

  “As a coach, you never manipulated any of your players, did you?”

  “Getting my players to always play their best would be a nice advantage, wouldn’t it?” Clay responded. “But, no, Tanner. I assumed when I was young that manipulating others was wrong. As I got older, I figured it was my secret and as long as I didn’t use the power I possessed, and never told anyone about it, I could be happy and content. I wasn’t either of those things, but I kind of decided that my power was my own personal cross to bear, and I needed to simply accept the burden. When your mother was killed, I blamed myself. I told myself that it was because I had used my powers that all of the chain of events occurred that led to her murder. I’ve been grieving her loss ever since. But lately I’ve started to have a change of heart. The powers I possess are a gift that God has given me to use for His glory. Now it’s my job, or my goal, or my desire, to figure out how and when to use my gifts in a way that I’m proud.”

  “Do you think you would have been proud of a decision to make all your team—or all your teammates, like in my case—be able to play with one hundred percent focus?”

  “I have to admit, you’re a little more reckless in the use of your powers than I tend to be, but that doesn’t mean you’re any more selfish or any more inappropriate. The way I saw it—and Zander and his wife agreed—you helped your teammates deal with a very difficult situation, and they came out of it as a better team. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but we as individuals are forced to make tough decisions and moral decisions over and over again. We learn from the wrong ones and try to do better the next time. I don’t know if what you did was wrong or not, and I’m not sure if I would have done what you just did, but I’m proud of you for caring about whether you were right or not.”

  Tanner had listened intently and seemed to be thinking deeply about what his father had said. He leaned over and gave his dad another hug. “Thanks, Dad…Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  Clay simply laughed. Tanner bounced back from everything in what seemed to be a blink of the eye. “Sounds good.”

  “I’m gonna have a hard time gettin’ that broken ankle out of my head. You wanna get in my head and make me forget it?”

  “Nope. It’ll help you remember what happened tonight.”

  Tanner laughed too. “By the way. I have another picture in my head that I can’t seem to shake. It’s a gray, metal cabinet, about the size of a two-drawer file cabinet. It looks like it has a drawer and a door. There’s a metal handle that you’d probably turn down and then pull out to open the door. It looks like there’s a keypad, but it’s kind of semi-dangling loose from the door. The vision’s been in my head all day. I was hoping you’d know what it was.”

  “I don’t have any idea, but I would
n’t be surprised if it has something to do with the mystery we’re working on. I’ll keep my eyes open for something that looks like that. Maybe it’ll be important.”

  Chapter 16

  Logan Payne didn’t go to school again on Monday. His woodshop teacher, Mr. Jorgenson, called to see if everything was all right, and his basketball coach called to give his condolences. Logan had spent the entire morning working on a wood project that he planned to give to Anna Gomez. He took a one-inch by one-inch by four-inch piece of soft balsa wood. He drew a circle at the center of each of the four sides and then drew two rectangles on each side of the block—one to the right and one to the left of each circle. He took a chisel and chipped away each of the eight rectangles until the piece of wood looked like a cage for the remaining portion of wood in the center. He then took out his jackknife and began to whittle away at the piece of wood remaining in the center, rounding it into the shape of a ball that was too big to slide through its cage. When he was done, he had created a toy for Anna. She would be amazed at how he got the ball inside the cage since it was obviously too big to be taken out.

  Erika marveled at his talent and was grateful that he was using it to be kind to someone else. Her phone rang for the third time that morning. It was Clay and Luke Hopper, wondering if they could stop by again to talk to Logan. Erika told them that he wasn’t in school, so they could visit any time.

  The men left right away. Clay was excited to see Erika again, so when Hopper’s car pulled to a stop at a railroad crossing, he was more than a little disturbed. Lights were flashing and the crossing arm was lowered, but there was no train. Clay leaned forward in his seat and looked to his left and right to locate the train, but he didn’t see anything. “You’re a cop. How ’bout you drive around that arm so we can get going?”

  “I’m an officer of the law, Clay. That would be illegal.”

  “But there’s no train, Luke.”

  “It does appear that way. Maybe some tests are being done. Happens all the time around here.”

  “And you don’t just drive around? You sit here until the arm goes back up?”

  “I usually just listen to one of my books or listen to sports talk. Sometimes I finish my coffee and read the paper. Today I’m blessed to have you and your stimulating conversation to keep me entertained. There’s usually not much reason to hurry around here. Relax, Clay. Enjoy the sights.”

  “What sights? I see some overgrown bushes, a dilapidated storage shed, and some telephone poles. Is that the best you have to offer?”

  “Sometimes, if you’re patient, you might see some wildlife cross the road,” Hopper joked. “By the way, we checked out Erika the best we could so far. She made a phone call to Mortonson’s home on the morning of the train crash, and he made a call from East Lansing back to Erika’s house before the train left the station. There are no records of any purchases through her credit card, which would be strange if she drove to Indiana and back.”

  “The calls make sense, you know,” Clay responded. “He was watching her son. And maybe she didn’t drive. She was with other people. Have you checked with any of them? Maybe she paid cash. I can’t believe you think she’s a suspect.”

  “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I ruled her out before I was sure. It’s called police work.” The lights stopped flashing and the crossing arm raised. “See there? Patience is a virtue, you know. You could use some patience as we muddle our way through this case too.”

  Clay just rolled his eyes and started thinking about Erika again.

  ***

  Erika had to get Logan back out of bed when Clay and Chief Hopper arrived. One side of his hair was flattened to his head; the other side was sticking straight out. His bangs were still covering his eyes. Erika explained to him that the men were there to ask questions about the day his dad disappeared.

  After Logan plopped down on the couch and grabbed a pillow to hug, Chief Hopper asked his first question. “What do you remember about that day, Logan?”

  “Nothin’ really.”

  “You were in a train wreck and your dad disappeared, and you don’t remember anything?”

  “Logan, be cooperative,” his mother ordered.

  There was a long pause, and finally Logan said, “I remember my loser dad being a jerk.”

  Hopper was practicing amazing interview skills. He continued to remain silent. There was another long pause. “He didn’t want me to go. I remember that. So Mom had to send Morty to baby sit. I wanted to ride on the train. I wanted to be in the engine with my dad and have him pay attention to me. Maybe let me drive the train. But like always, he didn’t want to be with me.”

  That was a lot of words for Logan. Erika was amazed. She looked at Clay and pointed at her eyes, then his, hoping that he’d understand what she was suggesting, but Clay shook his head. He hadn’t controlled Logan at all.

  “Tell me what you remember about the train ride home,” Hopper suggested.

  “I was waiting with Morty to get on the train, but I was looking for my dad. I didn’t see him anywhere—didn’t see anyone I knew, except Morty, who was with me, and I think I saw Robbie. He was carrying a chain and a toolbox away from the train. Finally, my dad showed up and stepped up into the engine car. When we got on, we went to the back of the train and sat.”

  “Mr. Mortonson said you got up after about a half hour and went to look for your dad.”

  Clay had been struggling to get a look at Logan’s eyes, but they were mostly covered by his bangs, and he rarely looked up. It appeared that he wasn’t going to learn anything by reading the boy’s mind. But miraculously, he actually looked up and they made eye contact. “Don’t look away,” Clay ordered him.

  “I wanted to ride in the engine with him.”

  “Did you see him?” asked Hopper.

  “Yes,” thought Logan. There was a pause. He didn’t answer.

  Clay had eye contact, so he asked, “Was he lying on the floor of the train?”

  “No,” Logan answered quietly.

  “What happened, Logan?” Clay responded just as softly.

  “We argued and he hit me in the face,” Logan thought. “Nothing” is what he said.

  When Clay heard what Logan was thinking, he lost eye contact in order to look at Erika. When he looked back, Logan was looking down again.

  Hopper rejoined the interview. “Nothing happened? You didn’t see him?”

  “No.” Logan was back to his usual one-word answers.

  Hopper paused again and seemed to sense that he was fortunate to get Logan to say as much as he did, so he thanked Logan and allowed him to go back to his room.

  As soon as Clay heard the boy’s door close, he looked at Erika and quietly said, “He saw your husband on the train.”

  “Are you just saying that because it’s what you believe or do you know something that I don’t?”

  “I read his mind. He saw Adrian, and Adrian hit him in the face.”

  “What?” Erika was clearly shocked.

  “Had Adrian ever hit him before?” Luke asked.

  “No. Not that I ever knew of…How can you be sure that’s what he was thinking?”

  “I’m sure, Erika. But the only things that I read from him were that he saw your husband, and that your husband struck him in the face.”

  “Ex-husband. And if he was alive now, I think I’d kill him.”

  ***

  Luke Hopper was being very contemplative in the car on the way back to the station. When the first of two trains zoomed by—actually at a reasonable speed—Luke turned his CD player on and listened to Harlan Coben’s Tell No One. “You ever read this book, Clay?”

  “No, actually, I haven’t. Isn’t Coben the guy with the Myron Bolitar character?”

  “Yeah, but not in this book.” He stopped the CD. “This one is about a guy whose wife was taken and killed. Eight years later, he gets a message that he’s convinced only his wife could have sent, but he gets warned to ‘tell no one.’ Well, the guy isn
’t about to sit still. He needs answers—closure. He wants to know what happened to his wife. Erika, in my opinion, doesn’t seem quite as concerned about finding out what happened to her husband. I don’t want to believe that she’s somehow involved in this, but she had two pretty good motives to kill the guy. And she also quite likely had the opportunity. She as much as admitted that she could kill him.”

  “Well, you keep following your little rabbit trail if you want to, Luke, but she’s innocent of any wrongdoing, and I intend to prove it. In the meantime, maybe we’ll find what really happened that day.”

  “What’s especially troubling,” said Luke, “is that the medical examiner said that Adrian died from the accident, and Adrian’s ghost said he died of a heart attack. But the body was definitely buried after the fact, and people are lying about it. And we just started asking around. And one more thing. Logan said he thought he saw Robbie at the train in East Lansing. I have the passenger lists. Robbie wasn’t a passenger. What was he doing there?”

  Chapter 17

  Clay got in his car and considered driving back home. He was feeling a bit helpless, not knowing what to do next, so he did what he wanted to do. He called Erika. She asked him to meet her at Durand High School, where she was dropping her son off at basketball practice. He’d agreed to go even though he’d missed school and wouldn’t be able to participate. His first game was only one day away.

  At the high school, Erika got out of her car and got in Clay’s. She affectionately squeezed his hand. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go give my friend, Dan Duncan, a visit. He’s at home after emergency surgery on his big toe. We can ask him what he remembers about that night.”