I stood up. Right away I felt dizzy. Grabbing Brad’s arm for support, I said, “I have nothing to lose, Brad. I’m on a fast slide to having my life destroyed. You gotta help me.”
Minutes later Brad was wearing my hospital gown, and I was decked out in his white silk shirt and powder blue dress pants. He was taller than I was, so the shirtsleeves and pant legs were too long.
Brad pulled his jacket on over the hospital gown. He hugged it round himself to stop his nervous shivering. “If I’m caught, I’ll get it from Dad big-time,” he mourned. Sticking a hand in one pocket, he fiddled with coins. Ka-ching, ka-ching.
This reminded me of what Mr. Costello had said: Their screams are my ka-chings. I wondered how many ka-chings he’d get with the shadow of murder hanging over Safari Splash.
I told Brad, “Maybe I should just sneak out without getting you involved.”
Brad heaved a deep breath and shook his head. “There’s no way you can walk out of here in this”—he fingered the gown distastefully—“without attracting attention. Your own clothes were all bloodied. The police took them for evidence. No, Clay. You take my duds. You’re my friend, and I want to help you.”
You’re my friend. Like I’d been any kind of friend to him over the years.
“My mom will come by soon,” I said.
“She’ll bring me fresh clothes. Put them on, tell her what happened, and get the heck out. With any luck, Mom will show up before Mulligan comes back.”
With any luck. Luck had been in short supply for me today.
Brad rattled the coins around in his pocket and looked doubtful.
As I slipped out, he was sliding under the bedcovers, pulling them over his head. The old ostrich routine…
I headed to the nearest elevator. I frowned as if I was thinking deep medical thoughts and couldn’t possibly be on the run. Every few steps I felt dizzy and had to lean against a wall to steady myself.
In the elevator, I pushed back the too-long shirtsleeves and punched G for ground level.
Before the doors closed, an old woman hobbled in, helped by a nurse. The old lady did a double take. “My, my! What happened to your head?”
I’d forgotten about the bandage. The nurse stared. “A minor accident,” I said. But even from the blurry reflection in the elevator’s steel doors, I could tell my complexion was sickly.
“Pardon, sonny?” The old woman pushed her hearing aids in tighter.
The doors opened to the lobby. It was round, with shops and a food fair at the center, and halls branching off like spokes.
Detective Mulligan stomped along one of the halls yelling into his cell phone. “Whaddya mean, he left? Didn’t anyone stop him?”
Somebody had already spotted Brad. The nurse, I thought. She’d come back to check on me.
“You don’t look too well,” the old woman said, squinting up into my face.
Mulligan was rasping, “C’mon, the kid has a head injury! It can’t be that hard to find him.”
With her hearing problems, the old woman was oblivious. But the nurse gave my bandage a sharp look.
The lobby was a sea of red and white uniforms. Candy stripers were listening to a woman explain volunteer duties. “You’ll be asked to read aloud to elderly folks,” she told the kids brightly.
I’d be asked to wear a pair of handcuffs, if I didn’t watch it. Mulligan was headed toward the elevators. I had to get out of sight. I ducked behind the candy stripers and into the nearest shop, Lions Gate Boutique. I grabbed a smiley-face shirt off a rack and barreled into the change room. “Be right out,” I called.
“But that’s a woman’s T-shirt…,” the clerk objected.
“It’s for my mom. I’m trying it on for her.”
Great. I was as subtle as a tarantula in a bowl of vanilla pudding.
I opened the change-room door a crack. I was watching for Mulligan to disappear into an elevator.
I wasn’t so lucky. After jabbing repeatedly on an elevator button, the detective’s gaze turned sideways— to Janice Costello, who was walking by.
“Hey, missy,” he yelled, so loudly the whole pack of candy stripers turned to stare. “You seen Clay Gibson?”
Janice wound her long hair around a wrist and regarded him coolly. “My name’s Janice, not Missy. And I haven’t seen Clay since yesterday, before he got attacked. I was just coming to visit him now.”
Mulligan snorted. “Well, he’s bolted, Janice.” He pronounced her name with mock care. “Your buddy won’t get far though. Not with that head injury.”
In the boutique, I could see the clerk turn to frown at the change-room door.
Chapter Nine
Mulligan whipped out a fresh lollipop. Crunching into it, he barked at Janice, “We’ll have your guy back upstairs in minutes—and this time we’ll chain him down.”
The elevator arrived, and he stomped inside.
Before the clerk could glance my way again, Janice walked into Lions Gate Boutique. She was blushing from the stares of the candy stripers.
“I need a gift for a patient,” she said.
The clerk nodded. “What kind of patient? Old, young, male, female?”
“Young. Male.”
“We got a nice selection of Ts.” The cashier waggled blue-painted fingernails at the racks lining the shop. “All colors. Whazz your boyfriend look like?”
Janice’s blush went into overtime. I grinned in spite of myself.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He has black hair, blue eyes.”
“Oooo. A hottie.” The clerk showed her a black T-shirt with two lions roaring by a gate.
“Lions…and a gate. Uh, cute,” Janice said.
I had to get out of the boutique. Mulligan could come rampaging down to the lobby again at any minute.
“Maybe your boyfriend would prefer something sparkly.” With another blue-nailed gesture, the clerk indicated a T-shirt with the hospital depicted in rhinestones.
I pushed the change-room door wide open. “I’m not the rhinestone type,” I told the clerk.
I pulled Janice inside the change room.
“Hey, wait a sec,” the clerk objected. “You can’t—”
I shut the door.
Janice started to laugh, then whispered, “Are you out of your mind, Clay? That detective is after you.”
“He’s wrong, Janice. He thinks that I’m mixed up in the robbery—that I killed Aggie. But I didn’t.”
“I know you didn’t. You couldn’t.” Her eyes were solemn. And green as ever.
I grinned at her. She almost grinned back. But then a frown took over. “You can’t resolve this on your own, Clay. You should let the police figure it out.”
“There’s no point, Janice. Mulligan’s already sentenced me to a lifetime of making license plates. Judd’s the one Mulligan wants. I have to find him. Is he at work?”
“Safari Splash is closed,” Janice said glumly. “Police orders, while they search for evidence. Judd’s probably at home.”
“Counting his forty grand in peace,” I said bitterly. “Do you have access to employee files? Could you get me Judd’s phone number?”
Janice bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that for you. I want to help you, and I know Brad would want me to.”
I cracked open the change-room door. Except for the clerk, who was scowling at me, the shop was empty. “Okay, let’s get outta here. By now Mulligan knows Brad switched places with me. It’s a fair guess that he’s ready to detonate.”
“You mean—” Janice noticed my Brad outfit, and this time she did laugh. “You look ridiculous!”
“Thanks, Janice. I needed that vote of confidence.”
I didn’t want more people gawking at my bandaged head, so I grabbed an extra large ballcap. The still-amused Janice offered to pay for it, but I’d already pulled out my wallet.
Wait. I stared at it. This wasn’t my wallet. It was Brad’s. He’d left it in the pants pocket. My wallet was with my clothes—in police custody. Great. All my id was in
there.
I pulled bills and change from Brad’s wallet to pay for the ballcap. I’d pay him back later.
Photos crammed the Costellos’ den. There was Mr. Costello as a kid with swimming trophies, Mr. and Mrs. Costello’s wedding, Janice and Brad.
“Brad always dresses better than me,” Janice said over my shoulder. There was a fond note to her voice.
We’d gone to the Costellos’ house to get the information on Judd. The Safari Splash office would be too risky.
Janice logged on to her dad’s computer. I waited in the hall, where a full-length mirror showed me how dumb I looked with the shirtsleeves flapping around my wrist. I tried buttoning them, but they were still too baggy. In the end I just rolled them up.
Mrs. Costello was in the living room, sobbing into the phone. “How could Bill be so careless, leaving all that money in the till? Oh, Auntie Fran!”
Janice’s mom hadn’t noticed us come in. I hoped to keep it that way.
I edged past the living room. An especially tidy room caught my attention. No, it was more than tidy. It was military. On the dresser a brush, comb, suntan lotion and walnut box were lined up in perfect formation. In the closet, the clothes were grouped by color.
I grinned. This had to be Brad’s room.
Janice was still busy. I wandered in.
Even a jeans-and-T-shirt guy like me could appreciate the wardrobe. Silk suits in every shade.
I stepped over to the dresser. The walnut box was polished so you could see every grain of the wood. I bet Brad had made this in shop. I’d made a similar one at my school. Mine, which I’d given to my mom, was nowhere near as perfect as this.
I lifted the lid. The black-velvet-lined compartments glistened with gold jewelry: tie studs, cuff links, signet rings. All the compartments were full but one. Brad sure liked his finery. The bling was nice enough, but I was more interested in the box’s craftsmanship. Brad had really worked on this. A labor of love.
Janice stood, slightly breathless, in the doorway. She waved a piece of paper. “I found Judd’s cell number. I hope you know what you’re doing, Clay.”
“Janice?” It was Mrs. Costello’s voice. “Is that you, dear?”
We gawked at each other. Uh-oh.
Janice’s brain shifted into gear first. She whispered, “There’s a phone in my parents’ room. Call Judd from there and leave through the patio doors. I’ll meet you at the bus stop in ten.” She hurried off to greet Mrs. Costello in a cheery voice.
It bugged me that Janice had to deceive her mom. And that I had to hide from the law. Judd had set me up. They toy with their prey before devouring it. I gripped the lid of the walnut box to keep from slamming it down in frustration.
My mind went back to the moment I’d found the mask, before Judd snuck up behind me and bashed me with the wrench. That was the moment everything went black.
The darkness seeped into my brain now. The room spun. I had to stay conscious. I had to keep the darkness away. I took deep breaths and focused on the bling, all the bright gold inside the walnut box.
Slowly the darkness drew back. Then it vanished. My vision cleared.
And, suddenly, so did my memory. I remembered exactly what had happened at the top of the Boa. The memory stunned me, but it calmed me too.
Now I had all the information I needed. And it was 100 proof. With it, I could get whatever I wanted.
I punched in Judd’s cell number.
“Yeah,” said Judd.
Did I imagine the smugness in his voice—the assurance that he’d gotten away with a crime?
“It’s Clay,” I said.
There was silence on the other end. I plowed into it. “I want in on the forty grand.”
Chapter Ten
Janice and I hurried up the dirt road to the side entrance of Safari Splash. It was a steep road through the forest—and a lonely one. The police had blocked off the entrance to the road. No trucks rumbled in with supplies, and no employees were driving in for shifts.
Safari Splash looked like a ghost town. Well, ghost jungle. The huge, painted faces of the animals, fun when the rides were operating, seemed garish with no water gushing around them.
Janice swiped her employee card through the gate’s sensor. The lock clicked open.
Before Janice could say anything, I grabbed the card out of her hand, pushed through the gate and shut it again.
Bewildered, she stared through the chain links at me. The plan we’d agreed on was that she’d come with me. I’d meet Judd at the base of the Boa. Janice would wait around the corner and listen. She’d hear his admission of guilt. She’d be my witness.
I’d never intended to stick to the plan.
I leaned heavily against the gate. I felt sick from rushing around in this heat, sicker about lying to Janice.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“Clay, what’s happening?” Janice’s face was puzzled, not angry. She still trusted me. I forced myself to look at her. I’d never liked a girl, all at once, wham, like this before. She liked me too. I was sure of it.
And I was about to throw it all away.
“Hey,” I said gently. “It’s better I go on my own. I’m sorry.”
Janice shook her head, confused. “You can’t do this by yourself. Not in your condition.”
I couldn’t possibly justify what I was about to do, so I didn’t speak.
Janice hesitated, then reached up to touch my hand through the fence. She thought I was being noble. If she only knew.
“Clay,” she began.
Withdrawing my hand, I turned and walked into the water park.
I had told Judd I wanted to meet at the top of the waterslide—for old times’ sake, I’d added as a joke. He hadn’t laughed at that. But then I hadn’t either.
I’d also told Judd what I knew. This info, if shared with the cops, would clinch his arrest. Judd had to agree to my demands.
Gripping the rail, I started climbing the Boa steps. Whatever happened, this would be my last visit to Safari Splash. Mr. Costello wouldn’t have me back after this.
As much as I hadn’t wanted to work here, I was sorry. I’d miss the challenges, even the barfing and complaining. Mom had been right. I had learned to be more tolerant.
The top of the Boa was quiet, except for the rustle of trees and the beep-like chirping of chickadees. The launch pool was empty. With no customers, there was no point in turning the water on.
I eased into the pool and sat on the edge of the Boa tube. My bandage was making me itchy, so I peeled it off.
I realized the chickadee beeps had stopped.
Someone was in the forest, just beyond the platform. Someone as quiet and stealthy as a lynx.
I felt eyes on me, studying, calculating.
Janice’s words haunted me. You can’t confront Judd on your own.
But I wanted this confrontation. I was tired of being toyed with.
I shifted back into the tube, trying to get out of the sun’s rays. I heard the crackle of a twig snapping underfoot.
He was approaching.
There was a rustle as he pushed past a fir tree. He swung himself up on the platform. He slipped and almost fell back.
But then Bradley Costello always had been clumsy.
Chapter Eleven
Straightening, Brad brushed his clothes. Under his powder blue jacket, he wore a ripped T-shirt and too-short jeans.
He explained, “Your mom gave me the change of clothes she’d brought for you.” Brad glanced down at the less-than-fashionable clothes with distaste. “I didn’t have time to go home. First that cop grilled me, then Judd called.”
Brad peered at me curiously. “I was surprised. I didn’t think you were bright enough to figure out that I’m Lynx. Well, not L-Y-N-X—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Though you did your best to make me think so.”
Brad jumped down into the empty pool. He didn’t speak. He just stared at me through those thick glasses.
The forest was silent. It was early afternoon, so the sun was pouring down Grouse Mountain. It had been different yesterday. When I was slammed on the head, the sun was too low to blitz the mountain. Grouse had been pretty much in shadow.
The two bright spots I had seen as I fell couldn’t have been sunlight. I had assumed they were, till the moment in Brad’s room, when I looked inside the walnut box.
When I saw the velvet-lined compartments, filled with gold jewelry. Except for one compartment. One was missing bling.
It was missing cuff links—the two bright spots had shone off my attacker’s sleeves.
And then I’d known my attacker was Brad.
At the hospital, I’d assumed Brad was jingling loose coins. But later, when I pulled out his wallet in the hospital souvenir shop, it held his bills and change.
More important, it held his id. I felt empty without my wallet. But Brad had been too busy hiding the cuff links to remember his.
When we switched outfits in the hospital, he’d dumped the cuff links from his shirt into his jacket pocket. That was why he hadn’t let me wear the jacket. He’d been nervously clinking the cuff links together, not coins.
And earlier that day, after Brad fell into the pool, he hadn’t removed his jacket even though it was sopping. He’d been afraid I’d see the links and make the connection.
“How did you get to be called ‘Links’?” I asked.
“At school the three of us hung out together. Aggie, Judd and me—the outcasts,” said Brad. “Aggie called me Links because at lunchtime I would polish my cuff links.”
I noticed Brad’s hands. I hadn’t realized before how big-knuckled they were, with long, strong fingers.
I forced my gaze away from them, up to his face. “You gotta get some help. What you did was…”
I remembered Aggie’s pale, lifeless face; the wet, limp yellow hair straggling down like mop ends. I turned away from Brad, not wanting to look at him.
I blurted out loudly, accusingly, “Why did you do it, Brad? Why did you steal from your Dad? Why did you kill Aggie Wentworth?”
Brad sat down on the edge of the tube. He began to speak, choked, then tried again. “All my life, I’ve heard nothing but Clay this, Clay that. What a great athlete you are. How much you were like Dad. And all the time you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
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