Blur (Blur Trilogy) (5 page)

Daniel didn’t know martial arts or an
yt
hing like that, but his dad had shown him how to immobilize someone if necessar
y.
It was one of the advantages of being the son of a gu
y
who’d been in law enforcement for nearl
y
twent
y ye
ars.

“Open the locker,” Daniel said, “and let him out.”

“No,
I—
Ow!”

“Teacher!” someone shouted. Immediatel
y,
the crowd began to melt awa
y.

Daniel released T
y,
shoving him firml
y
awa
y
from the lockers.

He shook out his arm angril
y
as he and his three friends backed down the hall. “You’re dead, B
ye
rs. You’re all mine.”

Daniel quickl
y
removed the pencil and unlatched the locker as T
y
and his buddies vanished into the dispersing pack of students.

One of the freshman math teachers, Mr. McKinne
y,
was striding toward them, but he was still onl
y
halfwa
y
down the hall.

When Daniel opened the locker he could tell right awa
y
wh
y
T
y
and his friends were picking on this bo
y.
He wore clothes that were wa
y
out of st
yl
e, had a bad case of acne, and he was short and didn’t look ver
y
athletic. Bullies are cowards. The
y
alwa
ys
prefer to pick on people smaller or more helpless than the
y
are. Daniel had seen this bo
y
around school, but onl
y
this
ye
ar. He guessed he was a freshman.

And he’d seen him one other place.

At the funeral
ye
sterda
y,
standing near the front of the church.

Even though the bo
y
was tr
yi
ng his best to hide it, Daniel could tell he’d been cr
yi
ng. “What’s
yo
ur name?”

“Ronnie.”

“You oka
y,
Ronnie?”

“Yeah.” He was tr
yi
ng to smile, tr
yi
ng to pretend ever
yt
hing was alright, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he was trembling. Despite himself, he sniffed back a tear.

Mr. McKinne
y
called, “What’s going on here?”

“The
y
mess with
yo
u again,” K
yl
e said quietl
y
to Ronnie, “
yo
u tell me. Alright?”

Ronnie nodded to K
yl
e as Mr. McKinne
y
arrived. “I said, what’s going on down here?”

“Nothing,” K
yl
e replied. “We were just helping show Ronnie around the school.”

“That true, Mr. Jackson?”

“Yes, sir,” Ronnie said.

His last name is Jackson? Is he related to Emil
y?

Mr. McKinne
y
let his gaze move from one bo
y
to the next. Daniel and K
yl
e had both had him for freshman algebra. One time he’d told Daniel that he was one of the brightest students he’d ever had in a decade of teaching and had encouraged him to join his math club. Daniel hadn’t, but the
y’
d alwa
ys
gotten along prett
y
well. In addition, although K
yl
e and Daniel had been in trouble a few times over the
ye
ars, it was never for an
yt
hing serious, and never for bull
yi
ng.

Now Mr. McKinne
y
glanced sternl
y
at his watch. “I think
yo
u three had better be getting to class.”

After the
y
were out of earshot, Daniel asked Ronnie, “Are
yo
u related to Emil
y
Jackson?”

“She’s m
y
sister.” He wiped a tear from his cheek. “M
y
twin siste
r—o
r she was. Until she was killed.”

“Killed?” K
yl
e sounded as surprised as Daniel was b
y
what Ronnie had said.

“She knew how to swim. There’s no wa
y
she just happened to fall in and drown. Not without someone holding her under.”

CHAPTER
NINE

“But she might have fallen off Wind
y
Point,” Daniel suggested.

“Or been pushed,” Ronnie said.

“You reall
y
think she was killed?”

This time he hesitated a little. “How else could it have happened?”

The explanation seemed simple enoug
h—s
he fell into the lake, it was too cold to swim to shore, and the current pulled her under.

But Daniel thought that pointing that out might upset Ronnie or hurt his feelings, so he held back. However, he did bring up something else. He had no idea wh
y
this bo
y
would be in school the da
y
after his sister’s funeral. “Shouldn’t
yo
u be at home?”

“I wanted to come.” His voice was soft, distant. “To be with m
y
friends.”

Daniel couldn’t help but wonder how man
y
friends Ronnie reall
y
had. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he said, tr
yi
ng to help him feel better.

He did his best to figure out what was going on. It seemed like an awfull
y
big coincidence that Emil
y
died and then T
y
and his friends just happened to start bull
yi
ng her twin brother the da
y
after her funeral.

Probabl
y
just taking advantage of the situatio
n—k
nowing that messing with him toda
y
when he’s upset about his sister will bother him even more.

Daniel felt his hands tighten into fists and he wondered if he should have taken a swing at T
y
after all.

Ronnie left and K
yl
e mentioned that he needed to get going too, but before he took off for his chemistr
y
class, Daniel asked him, “What did T
y
mean when he said that about
yo
u and Emil
y?
About how he’d heard about
yo
u two?”

“I have no idea.”

“So
yo
u didn’t know her or an
yt
hing?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“But wh
y
would h
e—”

“I said I have no idea.”

A pause. “Oka
y.
”

“I’ll see
yo
u tonight. Eight o’clock. Your house.”

“Sure.”

K
yl
e headed to class, and Daniel stopped b
y
the restroom to wash the soda off his face.

As he did, he wondered wh
y
K
yl
e had seemed defensive when he asked him about Emil
y.
It wasn’t like him at all. Based on K
yl
e’s reaction, Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if there was something his friend wasn’t telling him.

With that bothering him, he finished cleaning up. He tried not to disturb an
yo
ne when he walked into the ph
ys
ics lab late, but ended up getting a tard
y
slip an
yw
a
y.

After that, the da
y
went b
y
quickl
y,
but a swarm of questions pursued him ever
yw
here he went.

Could Emil
y
reall
y
have been killed?

Wh
y
had she appeared to him?

Was T
y
just tr
yi
ng to get on K
yl
e’s nerves, or, if not, what’d he been referring to?

After school, when Daniel was in the locker room changing for football practice, he was surprised to discover that there were no marks on his arm. None at all. Somehow the wound, which had been burned so deepl
y
into his skin that morning, had healed during the da
y.

Or ma
yb
e it was never there at all. Ma
yb
e
yo
u imagined the whole thing.

He rubbed his head.

No matter what was going on, it was like normal life was being warped out of shape little b
y
little and he was getting drawn into something dark and confusing, something that was wa
y
be
yo
nd his control.

Practice did not go well.

The team was distracted, their timing was off, and their concentration was at zero, but the coaches must have understood that it had to do with the recent traged
y
at their school and didn’t get on an
yo
ne’s case.

Afterward, Daniel and his wide receivers met with the offensive coordinator and the head coach to review the film of the Coulee Pioneers dismantling the Spring Hill Panthers last weekend. He had a lot on his mind, but he tried to ignore ever
yt
hing except the game film and did his best to concentrate on anal
yz
ing the pla
ys
.

The Pioneers’ defensive ends were crashing a lot. “We should go with read options on Frida
y,
” Daniel suggested, anticipating what the coaches would be thinking.

“Right,” Mr. Jostens, the offensive coordinator, agreed. He was a trim, fit gu
y
in his late twenties who’d been a wide receiver for UW–La Crosse and had been an assistant coach at Beldon for the last four
ye
ars. He didn’t teach an
y
classes and Daniel wasn’t sure what other job he might work at to help pa
y
the bills.

Coach Jostens paused the video and pointed to the Pioneers’ all-state tackle, a kid who weighed more than 260 pounds. “The
y
have an enormous line. This gu
y’
s trouble, but
yo
u’re good out of the gun. Read the defense, fire it fast, and we’ll roll over these gu
ys
.”

When the
y
were done, the head coach, Mr. Warner, called Daniel to his office and looked at him sternl
y.
“Have a seat, son.”

Daniel did.

With his round, st
yl
ish glasses, perceptive gaze, and meticulous mannerisms, Coach Warner looked more like a statistician than a ph
ys
ed teacher and hard-nosed football coach.

But looks can be deceiving.

“I heard about an incident earlier toda
y
between
yo
u and T
y
Bell. Care to tell me what happened?”

“I was just tr
yi
ng to help this other kid out of a locker. He was a freshman.”

“Did
yo
u fight with T
y?
”

“No.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“He swung at me, I stopped things from escalating. That’s all that happened.”

Daniel wasn’t sure that would be enough to reassure his coach.

“You need to be careful, Daniel. Bell is trouble and he’ll drag
yo
u down with him if he’s given half a chance. You understand that?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Alright.” With that, he dropped the subject of the almost-fight. “He
y,
listen, I’ve got some good news. There are two scouts coming this weekend. One from the Universit
y
of Minnesota, the other from Ohio State. Have either of the schools talked to
yo
u
ye
t?”

“Just letters so far.”

Daniel’s grades were good, especiall
y
in math and science, but all he could reall
y
count on would be a small academic scholarship. His dad’s salar
y
wasn’t that muc
h—a
small-town sheriff wasn’t exactl
y
the best career choice if
yo
u were hoping to make a ton of mone
y.

So even though his dad didn’t tell him in so man
y
words, Daniel knew the onl
y
wa
y
he was going to make it through college without working or taking out some major loans was with a football or ma
yb
e a basketball scholarship.

So,
ye
s, a lot was riding on this
ye
ar.

On this game.

Especiall
y
if scouts from two Big Ten schools were going to be there.

“The
y
want to meet
yo
u after the game,” Coach Warner said. “No guarantees, but just the fact that the
y’
re coming is a good sign.” He rapped a finger against the side of his own head. “Don’t let this mess with
yo
u. Just go out there and pla
y.
Hit
yo
ur receivers. Do what
yo
u do best. Got it?”

“I will.”

“And sta
y
clear of Bell.”

“I will, Coach. Thanks.”

As Daniel was grabbing his things, Randall Cox, one of their wide receivers, caught up with him in the hallwa
y.
“What’s up, Dan?”

“He
y.
”

“Listen, did
yo
u hear about this thing Coulee has going on? The pizza thing?”

“No. What’s that?”

“Their defensive unit has this deal that the
y’
ll bu
y
a pizza for an
yo
ne who makes a hit that ends up with one of our gu
ys
being carried off on a stretcher.”

“You’re kidding.”

“M
y
cousin goes to school over there. That’s what she said.”

“Fabulous.”

It didn’t take a lot of insight to translate that “one of our gu
ys
” meant the quarterback and wide receivers would be some of the primar
y
targets.

Randall glanced at the wall clock. “Well, see
yo
u tomorrow.”

“You too.”

At home, after making fajitas for himself and his dad, Daniel ate supper, then waited in the living room for K
yl
e to come over and for his father to get off work. While he did, he spent some time surfing on his laptop, pulling up whatever articles he could about Emil
y
Jackson.

He found her Facebook page and was surprised to see that the privac
y
settings were turned off, so that even though the
y’
d never friended each other, he could see all her posts and pics.

Ma
yb
e she’d done it herself before she died, or ma
yb
e her parents had changed the settings so people could find out more about her life now that she was gone.

A couple of bo
ys
and a bunch of girls had left comments since her death telling her how much the
y’
d miss her, how nice she was, how sad the
y
were about what’d happened, and it was a little creep
y
to see the posts like that on a dead girl’s page, but it struck Daniel that it was sort of like the twent
y-
first-centur
y
version of leaving flowers on someone’s grave.

Still, he didn’t like reading the comments. It made him think of the funeral again and how all those kids who’d ignored Emil
y
had shown up after it was too late for her to ever feel wanted or a part of their group.

She had Ronnie listed as her brother.

Daniel studied who her friends were and read her status updates, which didn’t take long, because there weren’t too man
y
of either of them.

And she didn’t have that man
y
comments or likes on the posts that she had put up there.

She tended to post photos, which actuall
y
helped Daniel get a feel for her life.

One of the pictures of her and her bush
y
golden retriever caught his attention.

She’d taken it herself, hugging her dog close and holding her camera out to snap the photo. Behind her, a lake stretched back until it met a forest folding into the horizon. The caption read, “Me and Trevor at Wind
y
Point!”

Daniel stared at the words, a knot forming in his stomach.

Trevor.

That was the name of her dog.

At the funeral, she’d told hi
m—o
r at least he’d imagined she’d told hi
m—t
hat Trevor was in the car: “Trevor shouldn’t have been in the car.”

Daniel couldn’t think of an
y
wa
y
he might have known before now that her dog was named Trevor. He hardl
y
even knew who Emil
y
wa
s—h
ow could he have known the name of her golden retriever? So, if it wasn’t her ghost, what explanation made sense? There was no wa
y
all this could be a coincidence.

And apparentl
y
she’d been up to Wind
y
Point at least once b
y
herself.

Did she fall? Did she jump? Was she dragged over the edge?

Or ma
yb
e, was she pushed?

Ronnie had told him he thought his sister was killed.

Ma
yb
e he was right.