by Jack Parker
Mr. Morrison looked up at the disturbance and Amy waved her free hand in a way that indicated everything was okay. Several students were watching, glad to have any reason not to think about the test. The teacher used the interruption as an excuse to look over the rest of the class; the man was convinced that everyone cheated and he was constantly on the alert for any sign of such.
Gracie started to return to her own nearly-finished exam when she saw Amy pick up her water-bottle. But wait! She was sure that Amy had taken Allison's bottle instead. The two had sat side-by-side on Allison's desk, but hadn't Amy put hers closer to the right edge? Well, a few germs wouldn't kill either of them, despite what Allison might say about that. Gracie looked down at her test and went over the calculation that had been interrupted.
Amy turned in her test and strolled back to her chair. She took out her phone and began checking for messages, or maybe texting or posting on FaceBook. Even though she was finished she couldn't leave until the bell rang and Mr. Morrison didn't care what students did as long as they did it quietly. She picked up her bottle and took a large drink, as if needing it to wash away the anxiety of the test.
All of a sudden Amy began gasping and choking, making inarticulate noises and shaking her head. A quiet wave of whispers spread around the classroom. Gracie heard several snickers and one clear word from a boy at the back of the room. "Vodka."
She realized that not only had she been right about the switcheroo, but that several others had seen it too. Puzzle pieces began swirling around in Gracie's head, coalescing into a clear and dangerous picture. Before she knew what she was doing she'd jumped up and grabbed the water bottle out of Allison's hand. Allison, her hand still halfway to her mouth, looked at Gracie as if she thought Gracie might possibly be crazy.
"Don't drink it, it's poison," Gracie cried.
"Here, now! What's going on? Gracie, please take your seat, I'll have no cheating in my class," Mr. Morrison said in an irritable voice.
Everyone was looking at her now, and Gracie felt faintly foolish. She glanced at Amy to see the girl's face was flushed from swallowing the alcohol, though Amy had capped the bottle and was trying to slip it into her backpack. She heard more laughter and the hissed comment, "No, stupid; it's Amy that's got the poison fire-water."
She stood her ground. "Mr. Morrison, I can explain. I saw Amy pick up the wrong bottle; she got Allison's instead of her own."
"That's right, I saw it too!" someone called out.
"Everyone knows that Allison carries Vodka around in those bottles," someone else said.
Allison's head swiveled back and forth between the speakers and Gracie, not sure what was going on and worried that her dirty little secret had been divulged.
"Amy, please bring that bottle to me," Mr. Morrison commanded.
"But, sir!" Gracie interrupted. "Look at the bottle Allison has, too. There's an antibiotic in it, eree..uh,"
"Erythromycin," one of the other girls supplied the name.
"Yeah, erythromycin, that's it," Gracie said. "Allison's allergic to it, it could kill her."
Allison turned her attention to the bottle in Gracie's hand. "I am allergic to erythromycin," she said. "And Mr. Morrison, it does kinda look like there's something in that water." She had a decidedly nervous look on her face.
"Bring it here, Gracie," he said. He beckoned to Amy. "You, too, Amy."
Amy pulled the bottle from her backpack and walked boldly to the teacher's desk. "I sure didn't bring this with me," she said. "I don't drink. But it was an accident; when I ran into Allison's desk a minute ago I must've accidentally grabbed the wrong bottle."
Mr. Morrison took the proffered bottle, unscrewed the cap and took a cautious sniff. His eyes widened in surprise, and he waved his hand in front of his face to remove any trace of the fumes. "This certainly smells like alcohol," he said.
Gracie held the other bottle up to the light from the windows. "But look at this, there's something in here that hasn't quite dissolved. If this were really filtered water it'd be clear as glass."
The teacher peered at the bottle for a moment. He took it from Gracie, opened it and smelled its contents. "No smell at all," he pronounced. "She could have refilled it from the water fountain, no telling what's in our city water. I think both of you girls had better go to the principal's office with me after class. I'd take you right now, but not everyone's finished with their exam. Can't leave the class alone in the middle of a test!"
"But it's Allison's Vodka, not mine!" Amy cried. "I just made a mistake, that's all." She glared at Gracie. "Gracie's just making it up about the eree, whatever. Just because she figured out who killed her dad she thinks she's some kind of super-sleuth."
"It's not mine, I swear," Allison protested. She failed miserably at looking innocent.
Mr. Morrison looked at each of the three in turn. "Several of your classmates seem to think otherwise," he told Allison. "It's an old trick, Vodka is clear and so easily mistaken for water. And I seriously doubt Amy would've choked if she'd known what was in that bottle; she'd had taken small sips instead. All right, you may return to your seat, Amy. Allison, you will finish your exam and then we'll go talk to Mrs. Baker."
"But, Mr. Morrison, what about Amy's bottle? Aren't you going to call the police?" Gracie pleaded.
He turned to look at her quizzically. "I think that Amy has a valid point. All of the students are upset over the recent deaths of Mrs. Lane and Meaghan Pruitt, but I think maybe you're seeing murderers where there aren't any. Why would Amy want to hurt Allison?"
Why, indeed? she thought. But Allison had been the only one of Jake's girlfriends not hurt in some way. It fit the pattern too well and I need to have that water tested. I know! "Mr. Morrison, what if someone were trying to hurt Amy?"
He picked up a pen from his desk and wrote the girls' names on the appropriate bottles. "There. I'll take them both to Mrs. Baker and she can decide if this preposterous story is true."
CHAPTER 25
"You told us the other day that Allison is allergic to the antibiotic," Shawna said as they walked through the park after school. They'd all wanted to enjoy the lovely weather while it lasted, yet after Gracie had told them about this latest development they'd also wanted someplace private to discuss its implications.
"That was in the gym when we were decorating, and Amy was there so she certainly could've heard that story," Kelly added.
"Erythromycin is prescription, but it's still pretty common stuff," Cheryl put in. "Not everyone takes all the pills like they're supposed to so it'd probably be pretty easy for her to find some. Maybe her mom had some left over."
"Are they capsules or tablets?" Kelly asked.
"What difference does it make?" Cheryl asked. "It'd be just as easy to crush a tablet as to dump the little balls out of a capsule."
"She probably mixed it up right before 6th hour," Gracie said. "It's simple. She goes to the ladies' room where it's nice and private and either pulls apart the capsules or dumps the already-crushed tablets into a bottle of water. She then flushes the gel-caps or baggie and shakes up the bottle and voila!"
"She sure must've been surprised to find out that Allison had Vodka in that bottle instead of water!" Kelly said, laughing.
"Well, I didn't know she drank at school until that party," Gracie told them. "Amy was there too, but I guess she didn't hear that remark."
"I knew," Cheryl stated. "Of course I've had lots of practice seeing the signs in my Aunt."
"Do we think there's any possible way that Jake could've put the antibiotic in the water?" Shawna asked.
"It wouldn't be that hard to draw someone's attention away from the bottle and then put the stuff in it," Kelly said. "But if that were the case it means that Amy was the target."
"Or he made a mistake and put it in the wrong bottle," Gracie pointed out. "We don't know when or where it happened, or who else might've been there."
"But it's really hard to believe that Jake meant to put the antibio
tic in Person A's bottle, screwed up and put it in Amy's, and then Amy picks up Allison's by mistake," Cheryl said. "Must be a million-to-one odds a mix-up like that would happen."
"Plus, that would mean that Person A was allergic to it as well," Kelly added. "Do we know if any of his other girlfriends are?"
"Not that we've heard," Shawna said. "But they might've mentioned it to Jake."
"I agree that would be an amazing comedy of errors," Gracie said, laughing a little. "Does anyone still think that Jake is behind this string of accidents?"
The other three shook their heads negatively.
"What about Amy?" she continued.
"You saw her switch those bottles," Shawna said. "But we don't know if there really was anything in the one she left for Allison – and Ken's pretty much told you he's not going to bother checking out anything to do with the accidents."
"We think she would've had the opportunity to make them all happen, but we don't know if she had the means or the, uh, call it 'supplies' and knowledge to do it," Kelly summed up their previous day's discussion.
"What about Bobby Summers?" Cheryl asked. "I bet he'd have the supplies and knowledge to do them all."
"But why would he?" Shawna asked reasonably.
"He's got the hots for the girls and if he can't have them then nobody can," Cheryl said in a jaded tone, indicating the antiquity of that motive.
"All of them?" Kelly asked meaningfully. "One particular girl, sure, I could buy that. But if we're right and someone's got it out for Jake's girlfriends then they must have some beef against Jake, not the girls."
"Jake's not exactly what you'd call friendly with Bobby, but he's not the kind of guy who goes around causing trouble or acting mean to other people," Shawna said.
"Maybe he said or did something that pissed off Bobby and he didn't realize it," Cheryl suggested.
"I suppose it's always possible, but Bobby just doesn't seem like the type to go in for revenge like that," Kelly said.
"Well, I wouldn't have thought it of Amy either, but she seems to be our Number One suspect at the moment," Gracie said.
"I still think we should go talk to Bobby," Cheryl insisted. "I said so yesterday."
"But we can't just ask him if he's helping Amy or telling her about things that magically happen the next day," Gracie said, worried over how to approach such a conversation.
"But we could ask him why an airbag wouldn't go off during Meaghan's wreck," Kelly said with a sly look. "You know, play up to him as the car expert, get on his good side."
Gracie laughed gaily. "C'mon, Gang – Road Trip!"
"Oh, that's easy!" Bobby said. He put down the wrench he was holding, pulled a dirty red rag from his back pocket and began wiping his hands. "It was just a fuse. C'mon, I'll show you." He waved them toward the front of the Mustang in his driveway.
Kelly flashed a wink at the girls as they followed Bobby, who was clearly pleased at being consulted.
Bobby popped the hood and pointed at a plastic box under the hood. "Fuse box, see? You open 'er up and there's all the fuses." He suited actions to words.
"How do you know which one goes to what?" Shawna asked.
Bobby flipped the lid closed. "There's a schematic right there. Tells you what each fuse controls and the amperage needed."
Cheryl peered closer, careful not to get grease on her clothes. "Looks like Greek to me," she commented.
"It's not all that hard once you get used to it," Bobby replied. "Certain important systems are on a fuse all by their lonesome, like airbags and ABS brakes. Of course this little beauty doesn't have that kind of stuff, heh, heh. That was what was wrong with Amy's car that Saturday at the recycling thing; she said there was a light blinking on the dash but what she hadn't realized was that it'd probably been blinking for awhile. She only noticed it after that guy bumped her."
Gracie and the Gang exchanged arched-eyebrow looks as Bobby slammed the hood and took a moment to wipe away his fingerprints.
"I don't get it," Shawna complained.
"What had really been bothering her was that the airbag hadn't gone off," Bobby said. "She just couldn't put her finger on it but knew it had something to do with the dash light."
"Oh, and the reason it didn't go off was because the fuse was bad!" Kelly said, acting like it was a huge revelation in order to feed Bobby's ego.
"Well, yeah," Bobby said. "Easy enough to fix."
"But didn't you have to have the right kind of fuse?" Cheryl asked, all innocence. "I get that the drawing told you what you needed, so did you have one in your car or something?"
Bobby opened the Mustang's hood again, enjoying this chance to show off. He pointed to the schematic on the lid. "First you see where the airbag fuse is." He opened the lid and removed something that looked like a pair of plastic tweezers. "Fuse puller," he said, brandishing it. "Let's say it's this one. You just pull it out like so. Then you get one of the same amperage from the extras attached to the inside of the lid and replace it. See? Easy as pie!" He replaced the fuse he'd used as a demonstration and slammed the hood again.
"Are all fuse boxes in the engine compartment?" Kelly asked. "I thought some cars had fuses under the dash."
"Sure, there's usually a fuse box in the cabin too," Bobby explained. "That's for stuff like radio and A/C, but it works the same way. Fuses can get old or work loose from vibration; that's probably why Meaghan's didn't go off when she hit that tree." He paused to shake his head sadly. "Damn shame; she was a nice girl." He sounded sincere.
"Yes, she was. Good thing you fixed Amy's airbag, I mean, you know, so she won't get hurt if she has a wreck," Gracie stammered. I sound like my ditzy step-mother used to, she thought. I'll give it away if I'm not careful!
Bobby apparently took her incoherence to mean she was concerned for Amy. "Oh, absolutely! Amy's a pretty good driver, but there's plenty of idiots on the roads."
"So, do you work on Amy's car a lot?" Cheryl asked curiously.
"I do a few things for her now and then," he replied. "Anything I can to help. Um, I think it was Monday after school that I winterized it for her." He sounded proud.
"Winterized?" Shawna inquired.
Cheryl apparently grew bored with the conversation and wandered into the open garage in front of the Mustang.
"Checked all the hoses and fluid levels, and added antifreeze to the radiator," he explained. His face turned a little red as he remembered something. "Ah, Gracie, I'm sorry for saying that about the cop and the principal's office."
Gracie turned to look at him with a slight frown on her face. "Huh?" she asked stupidly.
"I was just trying to make a joke, but then I realized Amy didn't think it was very funny. I thought she was mad at me, but then she asked if I'd put the antifreeze in after school. I guess she'd been trying to get my attention and I hadn't been listening."
"That's okay," Gracie told him. Now that he'd mentioned it she vaguely remembered him taunting her about talking to Ken.
But Bobby was still thinking about the scene. "Funny thing. She said she'd pick some up on her way over, but I just barely beat her here. Maybe she went out and bought it at lunch." He shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm sure you know antifreeze is slippery if you spill it," Gracie said, still feeding his ego. "Some guy spilled some in front of the store where my aunt works; she slipped and broke her ankle."
Bobby looked clueless. "Nah, I didn't know that. Dad told me to always be real careful not to spill stuff. Brake fluid will eat the paint right off the car and I did know that antifreeze will kill animals that drink it."
"I know you and Amy are friends, I guess she comes over here a lot," Shawna commented.
"Not as much as I'd like!" Bobby replied. "I don't know why she spends so much time with those cheerleader types; they'd rather hang out with the jocks than her.
I really enjoyed helping her out and talking with her that day. I'd hoped she'd do it again the next day, but she said she had to scoot out a little ea
rly to meet her mom, or something. That was the day Meaghan died, maybe she just wanted to be alone."
"Everybody was acting a little bit weird that day," Gracie said soothingly.
Cheryl re-joined the group. "Thanks for your help, Bobby. We just got to wondering about Meaghan's wreck; she might've been all right if that airbag had worked. You can bet I'll pay attention to any blinking dash lights from now on!" She turned to face Gracie and flicked her eyes back toward the garage. "If we're done now, I'd really like to go get some ice cream."
"No problemo!" Bobby said.
"Why ice cream?" Kelly asked as he started the engine.
"Why not?" Cheryl rejoined. "We may not have another pretty day like this until spring; I thought it'd be nice to take a double-dip back to the park."
"And talk about fuses to airbags and ABS brakes," Kelly said.
"Besides, I discovered another clue," she said smugly.
"What kind of clue?" Gracie asked eagerly.
"Bobby's garage is really neat," Cheryl began. "I mean neat as in orderly, not neat as in cool. 'A place for everything and everything in its place', as my Grandma would say. At the back of the workbench there's a row of Mason jars full of nuts and bolts and screws…"
"And nails!" Shawna finished.
"That's right. All arranged according to size, except there's one missing from the nail section." Her smile had a predatory look. "Betcha I know what happened to it."
"Yeah, bet we do, too," Gracie said. "Amy swiped it Monday afternoon while Bobby was working on her car. He said she left school early Tuesday – and that's the day a Mason jar of nails just happened to get broken on the street by the school."
"If it's okay with you guys I'm just going through the drive-thru," Kelly interrupted.
A few minutes later they were on their way again, headed for the park with Kelly admonishing them not to drip ice-cream on the car seats. He parked near the concrete picnic tables and they all got out and sat down at one of them.
Gracie licked a big drip off the side of her cone before it made a mess. "Before we get too deep in discussion, I'm gonna call Ken and ask him to look at the fuses in Meaghan's car."