Boy Trouble (15 page)

S
omebody had tried to kill me.

Somebody really and truly had tried to kill me. The detective's words were swirling in my head. It wasn't Kennedi who almost killed me. It was some deranged person who wanted me dead.

“I don't understand,” I told the officer after I took his card. I couldn't let him go without getting some more information.

Detective Yukon replayed the scenario several times. He said their investigation was in the early stages, but they believed the reason Kennedi hadn't been able to stop was because the brake line had been tampered with just enough so it wouldn't fail until my car hit a high rate of speed. I guess whoever wanted me to crash wanted it to happen in the worst possible way.

“So,” the detective said, closing up his notepad. “Do you have any idea who would want you dead?”

“Wow,” I said. “I mean, I know a lot of people that want me fired or can't stand me, but dead?”

My mind immediately raced to Demond Cash. He'd threatened me, told me I would be sorry. Or maybe it was Kendrick. Kennedi said she hadn't heard from him since the accident. Maybe that's what he had been doing on campus in the first place. But then he had been driving his Escalade.

“Did you run the plates?” I asked.

“Couldn't get a good read off the security camera, but we're working on it.”

“Are you sure this wasn't an accident?” I side-eyed Kennedi. “She
was
driving crazy.”

“Well, that's what we believed at first,” Detective Yukon said. “But even though those brakes were cut haphazardly, meaning it wasn't a professional job, it was definitely someone who knew what they were doing. And someone who wanted to hurt you. Bad.”

“Demond Cash.” I said the name out loud. “That's the only person I could think who would want me dead. He said I ruined his life and that I would pay.”

The detective opened his notepad back up and scribbled on it. “Demond Cash. Where have I heard that name before?”

“The actor Demond Cash,” I said.

The detective stopped writing and stared at me. “Wow, okay.”

“I did a story on him and his girlfriend, and he wasn't too happy about it.”

“You'll have to excuse me—I don't watch much TV,” the officer said. “Nor am I hip to all the latest Hollywood happenings.”

“Well, that needs to be where you start because if anybody wanted me dead, it was him. He's reportedly on the run, wanted in connection with the murder of his girlfriend,” I added.

“Okay, we'll definitely look into that,” the officer said, scribbling some more on his notepad. “Well, the doctor said I shouldn't stay in here long.” He headed toward the door. “Again, call me if you think of anything. You continue recovering, and I hope that I'll have some news for you soon.”

“Wow, you made the wrong person mad this time,” Sheridan said once he'd left the room. She stopped talking and looked like she was thinking. “Wait a minute. Javier has a burgundy Honda Accord. I mean, it hasn't been working,” she said. “But maybe he got it fixed.”

“Javier? You think he had something to do with this?”

Sheridan shrugged. “I don't know. When I broke it off with him, he swore that you had been in my ear. I tried to tell him that you didn't even know about it.”

“And you think he'd try to kill me over that?” I said.

“I mean, I don't think so, but I don't know,” she said.

“Well, you need to go catch that detective and give him Javier's name, too,” I told her, pointing toward the door.

Sheridan looked hesitant.

“Really, Sheridan?”

“No, no. You're right. I‘ll be right back,” she said, turning and scurrying out of the room.

Kennedi and I sat in silence for a minute.

“I'm so sorry, Maya.”

“Yeah, you already said that.” I couldn't help it—I couldn't stay mad at Kennedi. “But if what that detective said was true, then what happened wasn't really your fault. Whoever had it out for me would've gotten me eventually anyway.”

I was stunned. It was one thing to be disliked. Or even for someone to wish me harm. But for someone to actually try to kill me—that was my wake-up call.

I
was so ready to get out of this hospital, I thought I was going to scream. It had been two weeks since the accident, and I felt much better, to the point that they were letting me leave earlier than I'd originally thought. Unfortunately, my doctor had no faith in my ability to take it easy, as he said. So he wouldn't let me leave until tomorrow. Personally, I think my mother had something to do with it. She knew I was determined to find out who was behind running me off the road and the only way she could keep an eye on me was to keep me locked down in this hospital room.

J. Love had come by yesterday. He was the reason my room was filled with all kind of fresh flowers. Alvin had been by, as well. Apparently, all that mess Marisol was talking about him staying away from me was a lie because he had no idea what I was talking about when I asked him about it. Even my ex, Bryce had dropped in. It did feel good to know that there were so many people that cared about me. My nurse, a nice elderly woman who reminded me of my grandmother, called me a player because of the “men I had traipsing in and out.” I'd laughed and told her those were nothing but boys, hence the reason I was single.

“So, what did you find out?” I asked Tamara.

Tamara had just hung up her cell phone. She had been working to try to help me get to the bottom of who messed with my brakes. Of course, I knew she was doing it for ratings, but whatever.

“We're on it,” she said. “Police still have no leads, but they're hoping that with our story we'll get someone to call in.”

“So, when do you want me to come in and do the story?”

“Yeah, um, about that . . .” she said uneasily.

That made me sit straight up in my bed. Tamara had delivered enough bad news in the two years I'd been working for her for me to know when it was coming. “Yes?”

“Well, the doctor is not clearing you to return to work.”

“I get out of here tomorrow,” I said.

“Yeah, but your mom gave me permission to talk to your doctor, and he said you won't be cleared for work for an additional two weeks.”

“What?” I said. “That's ridiculous!”

“Well, you're going to have to take that up with him, but in the meantime
Rumor Central
cannot continue to wait. We've already been off air two weeks.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“Well, we have someone that's going to fill in,” she said.

“Fill in?” We'd been down that road before. No one could replace me on
Rumor Central.
They'd tried to give another show to Evian, my former
Miami Divas
costar. That idea had backfired. I thought they'd come to their senses and seen that there was only one Maya Morgan.

Tamara must've read my mind, because she said, “Look, nobody's looking to replace you, but this is business. We have to keep the show going. We're about to hit Oscar season and the spring slew of movies, and we can't afford to be on hiatus.”

“I can do it,” I protested.

“And we can't be responsible should you come to work and pass out or something. Or worse, re-injure yourself.”

“I'm not going to sue you guys. I'll sign a waiver or anything.”

Tamara shook her head like it was a done deal. “Maya, it's just a couple of weeks. It's just three shows.”

“Three shows?” I said. “You said the doctor only had me out for two weeks.”

“Well.” She shifted again nervously. “We're taping one this evening.”

My mouth fell open. “Taping with whom?” I asked.

“It's a young girl. She actually goes to your school, so we're going to keep it all in the family.” She smiled like she was doing me a favor. “This g—”

“Who?” I screamed, cutting her off.

“Her name is Nelly Fulton. She's the winner of
The X Factor.
She comes with a huge fan base.”

I didn't care if she came with Oprah as her number-one fan. I didn't want her filling in on my job.

“Look, I have to go,” Tamara said, throwing her purse over her shoulder. “It's a done deal. Nelly is just filling in until you come back.”

“How did Nelly get my job?”

“She does not have your job,” Tamara said, heading toward the door. “Calm down and stop being dramatic. She's just holding it down until you get back. Your fans are calling in wanting to know what happened. We've run a story on the news, but we've got to get
Rumor Central
up and on the air.” She smiled. “So make sure you tune in today at five.” And with that, she flashed a smile and walked out the door.

As soon as the door closed. I let out a piercing scream and threw a glass, causing it to shatter. If Tamara heard it, she didn't care because nothing but silence filled the room after that.

T
his could not be happening. I sat straight up in my bed hoping that this was just a cruel trick Tamara was playing on me. But since I was in the hospital room and I doubted they could tap into the hospital television system, I was all too sure that the theme music playing on my TV,
my
theme music, was all too real.

“What's up, everybody, it's your girl Nelly Fulton, filling in for Maya Morgan on
Rumor Central
, and you know I've got the scoop.”

This heffa couldn't even be original. She was using my lines word for word. I couldn't hear much of what she said after that, though, because my ears were burning with rage. This was
my
show. I understand that the show had to go on, but they could've come and filmed me from my hospital bed. Shoot, they could've released me, let me go film, and then sent me back home. What they
didn't
need to do was give anybody the idea that they could take my job. And I don't care about any reassurances that Tamara tried to give me. There was always a possibility that they could have a serious brain lapse and give someone else my job permanently, because Lord knows somebody was always jockeying for it.

“I need to take your blood pressure,” the small, meek nurse said, walking in.

“Can you come back?” I snapped.

“Excuse me?”

“I need to be alone, okay? Can you just come back?”

The nurse looked like she wanted to say something to me, but decided against it. “Fine, I'll be back in ten minutes.”

I didn't say anything as I continued staring at the TV screen. They had a picture of me and then damage from the wreckage as Nelly ran down the story and how police were searching for the person who cut my brakes.

Nelly wrapped up my story, and I hit the mute button on the TV and tossed the remote across my bed.

“Ugh!” I screamed. I didn't know how long I sat there seething before the nurse stuck her head back in my hospital room.

“Can I come in now?”

“Fine,” I said, shrugging.

“You really shouldn't let stuff get you so upset,” she said as she took a device and wrapped it around my arm.

“You really should mind your own business,” I replied.

She giggled and mumbled. “Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Nothing, Miss Morgan, nothing at all.”

The nurse pumped the little contraption in her hand and then turned to me. “Do you need any pain meds?”

“No,” I grumbled. “I just need to be left alone.”

She fumbled around with the machine some more as
Rumor Central
came back on. I almost turned the TV off and in fact, had just reached for the remote when the picture on the screen caught my eye. I hit the mute button to unmute it just as Nelly said, “And so police say Javier Espinosa was alone at the time of the robbery.”

“Robbery?” I said. Good grief! My friends' taste in guys was just un-freaking-believable. Sheridan said he'd stolen from her, but robbery?

“Authorities say he used the cell phone of former
Miami Diva
Sheridan Matthews, his girlfriend, to pose as her assistant in order to set up meetings with celebrities. Espinosa had the celebrities meet him, at which time he'd rob them at gunpoint.”

“Can you please be still?” the nurse asked.

I jerked my hand away from her and gave her the finger to be quiet. “Oh, my God,” I said. My friends were going to learn to listen to me yet. Too bad for them they had learned the hard way.

T
o say I was in a foul mood would be the understatement of the year. I was livid, not just about the
Rumor Central
report, but because once again, my dad had had something too important come up and he was going to try to leave me in this hospital another few hours. My mom also couldn't get away until later this afternoon. Yeah, I know I wasn't scheduled to leave until one and it was only ten, but the doctor said I could go and I was ready to go! And they expected me to just wait here until they made time? Oh, I didn't think so.

“Are you sure you can leave?” Alvin asked, as he got the last of the flowers out my room.

“My papers are signed and ready for me to go,” I said, slipping my jacket on. I flinched from the pain, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been a couple of days ago. I was just going to plaster on a smile and keep it moving because the last thing I wanted was to have the doctor try to make me wait on my family.

“It's just a couple hours, Maya. You don't think you should just chill?” Alvin asked.

“Look, I didn't call you to come and get me for a lecture, okay?” I snapped.

“Why are you in such a bad mood?” he asked. Then he stopped and studied me. “This is because of Nelly doing your show yesterday, huh?”

I actually felt tears welling up in my eyes, not just because my anger about everything was coming to a head, but because Alvin really was the only one who got me. No one else had been able to tell just how much having Nelly replace me hurt. But I hadn't said a word to Alvin about it and he'd known when I'd first called him. I could hear it in his voice when he'd asked me was I okay. He'd been at the hospital every day since my accident. My mom had said on the first day he'd slept in the waiting room. Alvin was a good guy. I wished I could've been the girl that he wanted me to be.

“I'll get over it,” I finally told him. It was too late to be pining over Alvin now. He may not admit it, but Marisol had made it clear, they were boyfriend and girlfriend now. “I just want to get home.”

“Come on, I'll take you home. Your parents can meet you there and I'm going to stay with you and we're going to watch movies all day long.” I smiled as he helped me stand up off the hospital bed.

“Wait! Wait!” the nurse said, coming in. “That's my job.”

“No,” Alvin said, smiling at her. “That's my job.”

I managed to return his smile as he helped me into the stupid wheelchair that they said was mandatory that I leave in.

The nurse looked at the papers in her hand. “Okay, fine. I'd still feel better if your parents were here, but they did sign the discharge papers.”

“Which means I'm free to go,” I said, motioning for Alvin to move toward the door.

One day I'd come back and thank the doctor who'd helped me and the few nurses who I liked, but for now, I wanted to get the heck up outta here.

Alvin got me situated and in his car, and on the ride home, he asked, “Do you want to get something to eat? Maybe a big, fat calorie-laden burger?”

I smiled. Normally I wouldn't be caught dead eating anything like that, but after weeks of hospital food, that was just what the doctor ordered.

“Yeah,” I told him. “I'd love that.”

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in Smashburger, ordered us both burgers and fries to go, and then continued on to my house.

At home, Alvin got me settled, treating me like a queen, refusing to let me do anything for myself. I actually enjoyed the attention and the pampering almost as much as he enjoyed giving it.

“So, any leads?” he said, once we had finished eating our burgers and were sitting on the sofa.

“No, they can't seem to trace the burgundy Honda Accord. The camera didn't get a good view of the plate.”

Alvin sat straight up. “Burgundy Honda Accord?”

I stretched, feeling belly-fat full and suddenly gross from that burger. “Yeah, whoever messed with my brakes was driving a burgundy Honda Accord. I thought I told you that.”

“No, you didn't,” he said in shock. He looked like he was thinking. “Wait a minute. When did this happen?”

I looked at him, confused. “What do you mean, when did this happen? You know when it happened.”

He hesitated, still thinking. Finally, his mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God.”

“What, Alvin? What?” The look on his face was scaring me.

“It—it can't be.”

“What can't be, Alvin?” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“The day of your accident. I haven't told you, but I broke it off with Marisol. For good.”

“What?” I said. He looked directly at me. “I told her I was in love with you and that she and I had no future. And it wasn't fair for me to keep seeing her.”

“In love with me,” I said, staring him straight in the eye. I knew how much he cared about and liked me. But love?

“Yes, Maya, you know that,” Alvin said. “You know that I love you. But”—he shook himself out of a trance he seemed to be going into—“but my point is, Marisol was livid and she kept mumbling how you ruined everything for her.”

“Okay, so she didn't like me, but what does that have to do with the person who was trying to kill me?”

He turned to me. “Maya, Marisol has been driving her brother's car. It's a burgundy Honda Accord.”