Gracie's Game: Sudden Anger, Accidentally on Purpose (47 page)

"Okay, I admit that sounds suspicious," Shawna said. "And I hate to say it, but what if she'd taken one of those pills before she started home from the game last night?"

They stared at each other as they considered the possibility and the consequences.

"That could explain why she misjudged the distance and ran into Meaghan's car," Cheryl said.

"The rain and the dark wouldn't have helped," Gracie allowed.

"Should we tell the police?" Shawna asked. "You could call your buddy Ken."

"Ken's a homicide detective," Gracie replied. "And I really,
really
hope he doesn't need to get involved with this accident. But I don't think it matters."

"Why not?" Cheryl asked.

"Because we can't prove anything," Gracie pointed out.

"But I could tell them I saw her with the pills," Cheryl insisted.

"You didn't pick up the bottle, or open it; you don't really know what was
in
that bottle," Gracie spelled it out. "You didn't actually see her
take
one of them. And the police didn't ask for a blood test so there is no way to prove her driving was chemically impaired at the time of the accident."

"Okay, okay, points taken," Cheryl said with a laugh.

"We really
have
had a lot of accidents around the school lately," Shawna mused. "Well, not
in
the building, but to people connected to it."

"Maggie's death," Cheryl stated. "Have you heard anything about that lately, Gracie?"

"I've told you everything I know," Gracie said. "Last thing I heard Ken doesn't have any evidence of foul play."

"But he can't say it was a pure accident, either," Cheryl said. "Think about it. Everyone's fingerprints and DNA were all over that house; if someone did come back after the party he couldn't prove it."

"And just because the neighbor lady thought she saw a car there early in the morning doesn't mean much either," Shawna said.

"Falls seem to be the operative word," Gracie said. "Travis slipped and fell, and Madison took that tumble in the parking lot."

"That was because of that whole weird thing with her taillight being broken and it looking like Emily did it," Shawna said.

"And Emily with her odd case of poison ivy in the wintertime," Gracie added.

"Talk about
odd
, remember Serene's desk falling apart?" Cheryl asked.

"Oh, I forgot!" Gracie said. "Shaun told me that Andrea got sick Friday afternoon and they called an ambulance to take her to the hospital." She chuckled ironically. "That was right after Shaun's locker door whacked him in the head."

"He didn't fall down from the blow?" Cheryl asked with a grin.

"No, and neither did Meaghan," Gracie said seriously.

"So someone isn't running around tripping everybody," Shawna said.

"It's just weird stuff happening, but a lot of it," Cheryl said.

"I think we're reaching," Gracie told them. "Someone we know has died, and Meaghan's had a bad wreck. That doesn't mean any of them were anything more than accidents."

"Gracie?" Clarissa yelled in the direction of her daughter's room. "Jennifer's on the phone for you."

Gracie poked her head out of the door and asked, "Jennifer?"

Clarissa grinned, eyes twinkling with merriment. "You know, your dear step-mother."

"Not any more," Gracie muttered as she came down the hall to take the phone from her mother. "Hi, Jennifer. What's up?"

"Hi Gracie! How are you doing?" Jennifer said.

Although Clarissa got along reasonably well with her ex-husband's widow she was curious as to why Jennifer had wanted to speak to Gracie. She began straightening pillows and re-arranging knick-knacks as an excuse to hear her daughter's side of the conversation.

"I'm okay," Gracie said. "How about you?"

"Oh, I'm just fine!" Jennifer said cheerfully. "School is going well and I really love working in the boutique. I'm learning a lot there, especially about the business side of running the store."

"Great," Gracie replied in a rather wooden voice. "You'll be opening your own store soon."

"Oh, not at all!" Jennifer said. "I've still got a lot to learn, and I'm slowly building up a customer base. It's so exciting when a woman comes in and asks for
me
, and wants my advice on what to buy."

"And of course you sell her the most expensive thing in the store," Gracie responded.

"No, I do
not
," Jennifer said. "Not unless that's what she really needs! But seriously, Gracie, I'm building a reputation and if all an ensemble needs is the right pin to set it off then it's to my advantage to say so."

"I'm sorry, Jennifer," Gracie said contritely. "That was mean of me. It's just that that boutique is such an expensive place…"

Gracie could hear Jennifer's smile in her voice. "That's what makes it such a great place to work. If I can learn to satisfy the wealthy ladies then I'll do well when I
do
open my own business."

"Jennifer," Gracie said a bit hesitantly. "I really mean this as a compliment, so don't take it wrong. You haven't said 'you know' or 'like'
one time
in this whole conversation!"

Jennifer laughed gaily. "One of my teachers pointed that out and told me that I mustn't act like a dumb blonde if I expected to impress people. So, you know, I, like, made an effort to, you know, talk different, like." She giggled at her self-impression.

Gracie laughed too. "I'm proud of you, Jennifer. That can't be easy to change. But, uh, you didn't call to tell me about the store."

"Thank you," said Jennifer sincerely. "Actually it's been kinda fun figuring out what kind of person
I
want to be instead of playing the role some
man
expects from me. No, I called to tell you how sorry I am to hear about the death of your teacher and your friend's accident last night."

"Thanks," Gracie replied. "It
has
been kind of a traumatic week. Though I wasn't really all that upset about Mrs. Lane, but how'd you hear about Meaghan?"

"Susan Winslow came in this afternoon and asked if I'd heard about Cynthia Pruitt's daughter," Jennifer explained. "She told me about the wreck and that the poor girl is in the hospital. It was such a shock, especially since she was just in here the other day. I
do
hope she's all right."

"Meaghan was in your store?" Gracie asked in surprise. "I went to see her this morning, she had surgery last night, and she seems to be doing okay. As okay as possible, I guess. She wasn't making much sense."

"That's good to hear," Jennifer said. "I'll pass that along to Cynthia's friends. Yes, she came in with a friend to, um, oh I remember! She wanted to buy a gift for her mother's birthday. Darn, I've got to watch those 'ums'. That was the day Tamara Fletcher's little boy fell down and skinned his knees. Although I'm really not surprised, that kid is a holy terror and personally I think she should control him a little better."

"Fletcher?" Gracie asked. "Does she have a daughter named Tanya?"

"Yes, Tanya was with her. She and Meaghan and her friend seemed to know each other. But the other two girls left and Tanya was supposed to be watching her little brother Tony except that she wasn't. The boy was running all over the store, hiding in the clothing racks; he knocked one over and ran out. It was the oddest thing, he tripped over a rock in front of the door."

"A rock?" Gracie asked.

"Yes. There's a bench just down from the store, with a potted plant and a rock that has 'Peace' and some flowers painted on it. All designed to set the shopper at ease so they'll feel like spending more money. I learned about that in class! Anyway, somehow that rock had gotten in front of our door. Kids being mischievous I suppose; though I'd rather they'd stolen it instead of putting it there for someone to trip over."

Another fall
, Gracie thought. "Are you sure Tony didn't put it there himself?"

"If he did then he deserved to trip over it," Jennifer replied with just a bit of acid in her voice. "I did want to give you my sympathy, and I really hope Meaghan will be all right and will get to go home soon. If you don't mind, will you let me know her progress?"

"Sure, and thanks, Jennifer. Take care – and keep up the good work! Bye." Gracie hung up the phone thinking that though Jennifer had seemed to care about Meaghan she'd really wanted a source of information she could use to make brownie points with the rich women at the boutique.

Chapter 41

"Amy, I
do
feel sorry for you," Cody said. "But you've got to accept it was an accident; it could've happened to anyone."

Amy was busy pulling books out of her backpack to get ready for second hour. "I just feel so awful about it all."

"Have you talked to Meaghan about it?" he wanted to know. "If she's not mad at you then you have nothing to worry about."

"I went up to see her Saturday
and
Sunday, but she wasn't awake either time," Amy said.

"I was up there Saturday morning and she was awake for a few minutes," Gracie said as she took her seat.

Amy glared at her but said nothing.

"Hey, I believe you, Amy!" Gracie said. "Her mother said she's been in and out all weekend and the doctor says that's normal. So it wouldn't be at all odd that she'd be asleep both times you went to visit."

"She's probably getting some seriously good drugs," Cody speculated.

"I'm sure," Gracie agreed. "They want her to rest and heal, and she did say her stomach hurt." She suddenly remembered Cheryl's tale of the pill bottle in Amy's backpack and leaned over to rummage in her own as an excuse to take a closer look at Amy's. Either Amy didn't have the pills today or she'd learned her lesson and put them somewhere they wouldn't be easily seen.

"How was she when you talked to her?" Cody asked. "Everyone's really worried."

"She wasn't making much sense; she said, uh…" Gracie paused, realizing it would upset Amy to learn that Meaghan had seemed to remember being in the wreck. "She said she wanted to see Jake."

"Has Jake been to see her?" Amy asked.

Gracie shrugged. "I sent him a text, but he didn't reply. I decided not to go back up there yesterday, I figure she's getting a lot of visitors and didn't want to tire her out. So I don't know."

"There's a group planning to go to the hospital after school," Cody said. "You're welcome to come with us, Amy."

"Thanks, but I'll go by myself later," Amy told him. "I'd rather talk to her alone, if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself," Cody shrugged. "I'll tell her you're thinking about her."

Gracie's route to her next class took her by the principal's office and she was mildly surprised to see Ken standing in the doorway watching the students go past.

"Hi, Ken! You up here to ask more questions about Mrs. Lane?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am," he said. "Hey, would you come in here for a minute and talk to me?"

"I gotta get to class, Ken," she said. "How about at lunchtime? Will you still be here then?"

"Lookit that!" Bobby Summers called out loudly as he walked by. "Gracie's been a
bad
girl; she's talking to a
cop
in the
principal
's office!"

Amy, walking with him, dug her elbow into his ribs and hissed, "Shut up, Bobby!"

Bobby stopped and looked back and forth at each girl in turn. "But it's such a great scene," he protested. "Wait'll I spread the word; nobody will believe it."

"Bobby, leave her
alone
," Amy begged.

"Okay, I get it," Bobby said, nodding in sudden understanding. "She's your friend, and you don't want me gossiping about her."

"It won't take long, I just have a couple of questions," Ken said, ignoring the byplay. "I'll clear it with your teacher."

Gracie nodded and they walked into the office.

Amy watched thoughtfully as the door shut behind Gracie and the cop. Then she looked at Bobby and said, "Hey, would you put some antifreeze in my car today? I meant to ask you earlier; it'll be cold before long and I'd like to be prepared."

Bobby looked surprised at the sudden shift in topic. "Yeah,
sure
!" he said, beaming. "That's easy, and I'd be happy to help. How about this evening after dinner?"

"No, I was thinking about doing it right after school," Amy said.

"Oh, okay, that'll be great. It won't take long, then maybe we could hang out for awhile." Bobby's smile was enormous.

"Sounds good," Amy said. "I'll stop and get some and then scoot on over to your place."

They started walking again, heading to their next class. Bobby was thinking over the exchange; something hadn't felt right. "Amy," he began hesitantly. "You're not worried that Gracie will tell the cop you were at that party are you?"

Amy just laughed. "Why would I worry about that? If she didn't tell him, then someone else did. Big deal; there were lots of us at that party."

Gracie followed Ken into one of the small offices. "Have you learned anything new?" she asked.

"No, I haven't," he said with a sigh. "When you've done this job as long as I have you get a kind of sixth sense; and mine is saying there's something I'm overlooking."

Gracie grinned at him. "And is your sixth sense always right?"

Ken smiled ruefully. "No, it isn't. Not always. Maybe it's that I
have
been doing this so long; I expect to find murder in every case. I like your football hero for this, but what little evidence I have is entirely circumstantial and I can't even prove it's murder. I thought I'd talk to some of the teachers here to see if she might've mentioned a boyfriend or anything else that might give me a lead. And the coach, too; see if he remembers young Jake acting strange."

"So what did you want to ask me about?" Gracie inquired.

"Another matter entirely," Ken said. "One of the students here was apparently poisoned on Friday. Andrea Little. She ingested cyanide."

"Cyanide!" Gracie exclaimed. "I knew she got sick Friday and went to the hospital, but I thought cyanide was always fatal – and quick."

"Depends entirely on how much you take," he said. "And what form. She's okay, they released her Friday evening. There's no indication she did it intentionally. I just wondered if you knew her and had any ideas."

Gracie mulled the news over for a minute. "Yes, I know Andrea. She always seems upbeat, I can't imagine her doing that deliberately."

"Does she make good grades? Seem to have a happy family life? How about boyfriend troubles," he suggested possibilities.

"Yes, yes, and maybe," Gracie answered in order. "She's one of the girls who dates Jake, but I think she – and all the rest of 'em – are well aware he's not ready to commit to any one girl."

"Jeez, I hate to have to ask this about a high school student, but does she drink? Or do any kind of drugs?" Ken laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm showing my age. I know some kids are into that kind thing these days, I just don't like the thought."

"I've never heard about it if she does," Gracie said. "She's the artistic type, always excited about some new technique she's discovered. She seems perfectly happy with that kind of excitement."

"Tell me some more about her," he requested.

"Well, she's African-American, and
really
into her heritage and roots," Gracie said, a little unsure what kind of information Ken wanted. "She's always wearing something tribal, though I'm not at all sure she has a clue
which
tribe it comes from. But she carries it off well, which is kind of surprising since she's a bit heavy."

Ken looked alert at that. "Would she maybe take diet pills?"

"Not that I know of," Gracie said. "Why? Do you think maybe someone gave her something more than a diet pill?"

"It's always a possibility," he replied. "She swears she has no idea where the cyanide came from. But of course she might not be telling us everything. It could even be a mistake; it was intended for someone else but she got it instead. Until we know where it came from we can't guess."

"Do you mean you think it's possible someone tried to kill someone and Andrea got in the way? Is that why you're investigating this?" Gracie was shocked at the idea.

"Or maybe it was meant as a prank," he said. "Some people have a sick sense of humor. I could even be an accident; someone wasn't aware the stuff was dangerous. Possibly it came from the chem. lab and got transferred onto something else."

Gracie shook her head sadly. "We've certainly had more than our share of accidents around here lately."

"You're referring to Mrs. Lane. Yes, it could turn out to be a deadly accident."

"That, and some falls, a case of poison ivy, a desk malfunction, a stuck locker door, and now Andrea somehow getting ahold of poison. And of course Meaghan's wreck Friday night."

"Another friend of yours?" Ken inquired. "What happened?"

"She was driving home from the game and another girl was following her. It was dark and raining and Amy bumped into her car, knocked it off the road."

"Is she all right?"

"She's in the hospital, the doctors think she'll be okay," Gracie said. She thought of her conversation with Shawna and Cheryl, and wondered if she should mention the pills Cheryl had seen in Amy's backpack. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She had no proof and she didn't want to get Amy into trouble without being sure.

"Glad to hear it," Ken said. "But I think you're over-reacting to Mrs. Lane's death, blowing little things out of proportion."

"Probably so," Gracie admitted. "I'm sure you'll let me know if you discover any prurient details in Mrs. Lane's life! If that's all, I really ought to get to class now."

"Thanks, Gracie. See you later."

Kelly pulled into the parking lot and found a good space close to one of the doors. "I like this getting back from lunch a little early," he remarked.

"Yeah, but I wasn't finished," Cheryl griped. "Anyone want a French fry?"

"Sure," Gracie said as she took several.

"Glad you came with us today," Shawna said. "But I thought you were all enthused about eating the stuff you made in Home Ec."

"Class was kind of a bummer today," Cheryl said. "Andrea's still at home and everyone's worried about Meaghan."

"Meaghan isn't in that class, is she?" Gracie asked around a second mouthful of fries.

"No," Cheryl agreed. "But Bonnie and Calleigh hadn't heard about the wreck. Neither of them felt very good Friday evening so they didn't go to the game."

Gracie swallowed her fries and thought about what Ken had told her. Should she tell her friends? It was one thing to speculate about the death of the teacher with them, but it seemed too close to home to think someone they cared about had had a brush with death. She decided she didn't like keeping secrets from them.

"Talked to Ken today," she said.

"Any news about Maggie?" Kelly asked.

"Nothing new," she said. "But he claims his sixth sense tells him he's missing something. He's talking to the other teachers to see if they know anything interesting about her life."

"What, like a boyfriend her own age?" Cheryl asked facetiously.

Gracie shrugged. "Anything. But he did tell me something else – Andrea was sick from taking cyanide!"

"I thought that killed you!" Shawna protested.

"And that you could smell it a mile away; 'bitter almonds' is how it's always described," Cheryl added.