A Candidate for Murder (16 page)

I pulled out a Kleenex to hold to her face, but it was rain-soaked in an instant. Someone had run to the office, and Coach Mac was the first faculty member to arrive. “An ambulance is coming, Cindy,” he said, and he turned to the rest of us. “You kids, clear out of the way. Go on back inside. Move it!”

At first I was too paralyzed to obey him, but someone
took a firm grip on my arm and pulled me around, walking me across the parking lot.

I looked up through a blur of tears and rain to see Justin. “It’s my fault. She had on my coat. They thought she was me,” I babbled.

Justin didn’t say anything until he’d opened the door of his car and shoved me inside. “Stay here, and I’ll get your books,” he said.

In just a couple of minutes he was back. He threw my books in the back seat and reached for an old sweatshirt, which he handed to me. “You can mop up with this,” he said.

I tried, wiping my face, but my hair dripped down my shoulders and back, and I shivered. I couldn’t stop shaking.

“Here,” Justin said, and he wrapped his jacket around me. For the first time I saw that he was as wet as I was, and I leaned against his shoulder, his arms snugly around me, and cried.

We heard a siren, and in just a couple of minutes a police car arrived. Right on its heels was an ambulance.

I sat up. “I’d better talk to the police.”

“Did you get the license number?”

“No. I need to tell them that the driver thought Cindy was me.”

“You’re not going to tell them some fool thing like that, Cary,” Justin said. He pulled away, turned on the ignition, and drove slowly out of the school’s parking lot.

“It’s
not
a fool thing!” I said. “Justin, someone’s after me. They tried to scare me. They broke into my bedroom.
And now this. If Cindy hadn’t jumped out of the way, she would have been killed!”

We came to a boulevard stop, and as he turned to look at me I could see that Justin was scared. “You really think so?”

“Why else would that driver have just aimed for Cindy? It wasn’t an accident.”

“It may have been some nut who didn’t care who he hit, or someone after Cindy.”

“No, Justin,” I said. “The driver thought Cindy was me.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Please. Just trust me. I’ll go into it later.” I put a hand on Justin’s arm. “I need to talk to Cindy. Will you take me to see her?”

“We’ll have to find out which hospital she’ll be in. We’d better get into dry clothes first.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes, but Justin said, “Cary, don’t get me wrong. Sometimes I don’t put things the right way. What I mean is, I’m sorry that Cindy got hurt, but I’m glad it wasn’t you. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

He reached over and took my hand, and I held it tightly all the way home.

I found Velma in the kitchen.

“Well, look at you,” she said. She did a double take and demanded, “Wait a minute! How’d you get in a state like that? What did you do with your coat and umbrella?”

“I lent them to a friend.”

Velma shook her head as if I were a dork beyond help. “Better get into a hot shower right away. And take some vitamin C.”

As I left the kitchen she called after me, “That lady reporter came by just a few minutes ago. She left an envelope for you. It’s on the front-hall table. She said she had to go out of town for an interview and she might not get to see you until tomorrow.”

I picked up the envelope and carried it upstairs. Just the tip of the gummed flap was sealed, and I was tempted to open it.

First things first. I had to hurry because Justin would be coming. I tossed the envelope on the bed, but I had second thoughts. I didn’t know why, and I felt a little stupid about what I was doing, but I put the envelope under the stacks of T-shirts and shorts in the bottom drawer of my chest of drawers, making sure it was well hidden.

The steaming water took away the chill, but I was still shivering from fear. What would I say to Cindy? Should I tell her she’d been mistaken for me? No. That would sound dumb. There’d be too many things to explain, too many questions without answers.

I needed Cindy to tell me what she saw. I hoped she could describe the driver of that car. Had anyone got the license number? If they had, Cindy’s family would probably know.

Carrying a warm coat and another umbrella, I waited in the entry hall for Justin. From the corner of my eye I caught a movement and whirled to face Dexter the Silent.

“Are you going with your parents to the party tonight in Fort Worth?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I answered. Mom had mentioned it—Fort Worth’s chance to meet the party’s three candidates. We’d have barbecue and a Western band, and she thought I’d have fun. But with all that had happened, that particular celebration had gone out of my mind. I didn’t feel like a party. I hoped Mom and Dad wouldn’t care if I didn’t go.

“I assume you’ll also be attending the fund-raiser for your father on Friday?”

I assume you’ll be attending!
Sometimes I got the feeling that Dexter tried too hard to sound like a butler-chauffeur. I kept a straight face and answered firmly, “Yes. I’ll be there. That’s the big night, and Dad’s going to give an important speech.”

I knew the speech would include whatever Dad’s investigators had discovered about the awarding of construction contracts and payoffs to Jimmy Milco, but I didn’t know what all of that information was. I suppose I could have told Dexter that much, but because I was suspicious of him, I didn’t want to tell him anything.

However, there was something I could
ask
him! Hoping to catch him off guard, I blurted out, “Dexter, where are you really from?”

Instead of a simple, direct answer, he queried me in turn, “Exactly what do you mean?”

I couldn’t tell him that Sally Jo and I had done some checking up on him and found that the employment agency didn’t have his name in their files. I was stuck, so
I mumbled, “You know. Like, have you always lived in Dallas?”

“Dallas is my home,” he said.

That didn’t tell me anything. Did he mean it’s my home
now
, or I was born here, or I’ve lived here ten years?

Okay. Have it your way, I thought. But I’m not through with you.

I didn’t talk much after Justin and I entered the hospital. Hospitals have a way of making you feel you should whisper and tiptoe. Fortunately, Cindy’s door was open because I wouldn’t have known whether to knock or just wait quietly until someone opened it. Cindy was propped up on pillows, one ankle in a cast, and her mother was seated by the bed, holding her hand.

There were already bouquets of flowers in the room and a big box of chocolates, and I was embarrassed. We should have brought something.

We said hello to Mrs. Parker, but I hung back, afraid to touch Cindy in case I hurt her even more. “I’m terribly sorry!” I said.

Cindy’s smile was a little lopsided, probably because of pain pills. “It doesn’t hurt now,” she said. “The doctor told me what was broken, but I can’t remember what he called it. Anyhow, it was just a hairline fracture.” Her smile suddenly drooped. “I’m afraid I ruined your coat, Cary.”

“Don’t even think about my coat! The coat’s not important! That driver could have killed you!”

Mrs. Parker leaned forward. “Did you see him, Cary?”

“No,” I said.

She persisted. “Did you get the license?”

“I didn’t try to get the license. I’m sorry. I was looking at Cindy. I was trying to get to her before …”

“I understand.” Mrs. Parker’s shoulders sagged. “No one saw a license plate, and no one can identify the driver. I can’t imagine what that man was doing on your school grounds.”

I turned to Cindy. “You saw him?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Just enough to know it was a man who was driving and not a woman.”

“Did he have dark hair? Light hair?”

“I have no idea. I saw the car coming straight toward me, and I got the impression that a man was driving. That’s it. And then I jumped.”

She jumped! Great! I felt a lot better knowing that the car hadn’t touched her.

Justin and I talked with Cindy and her mother another five minutes, then some of her relatives came by, so we said good-bye and left. We stopped off in the gift shop, picked out a huge teddy bear and a bottle of cologne, and arranged to have our gifts sent to Cindy’s room. Thank goodness for credit cards!

As we walked to Justin’s car I said, “I hoped Cindy could tell me something about the driver.”

“You’ve only told me part of the story,” Justin said. “You said I should trust you and you’d fill me in on the rest of it later.”

During the drive home I did just that.

“I don’t get
why
someone is doing this,” Justin said.

“It all started the day after Mark’s party,” I told him. “I’m guessing it must be because of something they think I overheard on the terrace.”

“You said what you heard wasn’t important. You told me that the night of Mark’s party.”

“I hadn’t thought about what it meant,” I said.

“Can you do that now?”

I went over the whole conversation. “That’s what I heard. That’s it. Does any of it mean anything to you?”

Justin thought a moment, then shook his head. “No,” he said. He pulled up in front of our house, and I climbed out of the car. The rain had let up, and the grass and shrubbery glistened. I took a deep breath of the cool, clean air.

“Don’t you want me to come in?” he asked. “Cary, I won’t leave you alone for a minute, if you think it will help.”

I ducked back into the car and gave him the kind of kiss I’d been missing so much. “There’ll be plenty of people around,” I said, “but I promise I’ll call on you any time I need you.” I sat back and grinned. “And then some.”

He gave me a lingering kiss good-bye, and I reluctantly pulled out my front-door key. But the door opened before I could use it.

“Hi,” Mom said. “I saw Justin driving off.” She gave me a hug and asked, “Now. Tell me. Why wasn’t I supposed to ask Justin to give you a ride this morning?”

I just smiled and said, “No reason. You can ask him to give me a lift any time.”

Mom looked a little puzzled, but she didn’t push. Instead, she said, “It took you long enough to get home from school.”

“We came home to change clothes. Then we went to the hospital to see Cindy Parker. She broke her leg.”

“Oh, good gracious!” Mom said. “I’ll have to call Mrs. Parker. How is Cindy feeling?”

“She’s feeling pretty good. She said it was only a hairline fracture.”

I expected Mom to ask how it happened, but she said, “You can tell me all the details later. I’m really running late. I’ve got to get ready for that Fort Worth barbecue.”

I was glad to escape an explanation. They were excited about the party. This was a big night for both of them. I couldn’t ruin it by telling them that I suspected the driver was not after Cindy but was after me.

Dad arrived home a few minutes later. He greeted me and asked, “Where is Laura?”

“Upstairs, getting ready for Fort Worth.” I tagged up the stairs behind him and, when we reached the top, said, “Do I have to go?”

“I thought you’d want to.”

“Not really.” I told him that Cindy had been hurt and had a broken leg. I added, “It’s like I’ve been holding my breath all day, and now that I’ve let it out, I’m tired.”

He smiled. “Stay home if you wish. The barbecue will be good, but the speeches won’t be that exciting.”

“Are you going to say anything about Governor Milco?”

“I’ve got some good solid information about him,” Dad said. “I’m afraid it goes beyond Milco and his friends just lining their pockets with taxpayer money through construction kickbacks and blatant favoritism. But I’ll make that proof public in the speech I’ll give at the fund-raiser banquet on Friday, because there will be good television and newspaper coverage. Tonight I’ll speak about education reforms.”

“What about Ben Cragmore’s construction company?”

“We’re working on that, but it has to be done the hard way. We still haven’t found the missing superintendent who can be our chief witness and who’ll tie it all together for us.”

“When you do tell everyone about what Milco and his friends are doing, will they arrest Governor Milco?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“First, the state’s attorney general would have to bring charges. Since he’s in the governor’s party and was elected on Milco’s coattails, he’s likely to delay on taking any action.”

That made me mad! “Well, at least the voters won’t vote for Milco when they find out what he’s done!”

Dad gave me a rueful smile. “I’m afraid you need a more realistic view of history, Cary. Some voters will vote for anyone who’s in the ‘right’ party, and many voters will vote for a name that sounds familiar, not knowing anything about the person for whom they’re voting.”

I shuddered. “Politics, yuck!”

“I’ve heard that before,” Dad said with a smile.

I grinned back. But then I wondered, what was so funny? Not politics!

I ran back downstairs to see what there was to eat. I didn’t want Velma to have to go to the trouble of making a special dinner just for me. She probably had planned a meal just for Dexter and herself. I didn’t feel like a big meal anyway, so I decided to stay out of the way and let her think I’d been taken care of.

Velma wasn’t in the kitchen, so I made myself a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich, dumped some potato chips on the plate, and added an apple. There was just about enough butter pecan ice cream for one big serving in the carton, so I tucked it in one arm, managed to hang onto a can of diet soda, and headed for my bedroom. There was a well-balanced meal. Did I know my basic food groups, or what!

I was busy doing my English lit homework and polishing off the ice cream when Mom and Dad came in to say good night.

“I’ll get out the car,” Dad said and left.

But Mom hesitated. “Have you got enough light?” she asked. “That desk lamp reaches such a small area.”

“It’s enough, Mom,” I said. “The desk is the only place where I’m working.”

“I can turn on the overhead light.”