Gracie's Game: Sudden Anger, Accidentally on Purpose (40 page)

Emily gave her a look that seemed to say
at least I have boobs
, but merely said "How long will it take to go away?

"Oh, a week or so," Allison said airily. "Gotta go, see you guys later." With that she headed for her car.

Emily turned to give Gracie a pleading look. "Where could I have gotten it?"

Gracie remembered the conversation at the recycling on Saturday morning. "Maybe it
was
you making out in Mrs. Lane's backyard," she said with a smirk

"But I
told
you, I wasn't making out with anyone at that party. The only guys I'd
want
to make out with were too busy ogling
Maggie."

Jake found the door he was looking for and knocked loudly. He was nervous about being here but knew it was something he had to do – should have, in fact, already done. He heard a voice growl something that seemed to grant entry so he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, opened the door and walked in.

"Lieutenant Freeman? I'm Jake Salazar, I talked to you yesterday at school," he said. His father had always taught him to look people in the eye, speak in a firm voice, and not show fear. He
had
nothing to fear, he'd done nothing wrong. Well, maybe not
nothing
…

"Hello, Jake. Come in and have a seat," Ken said cheerfully, waving him in. But he said nothing further, as if to deliberately ramp up Jake's nerves.

Jake took a seat and clasped his hands together in his lap.
Get it over with
, he thought. "There's something I'd like to tell you, sir," he began.

"I'm listening," Ken said calmly.

"First of all, I did
not
kill Maggie – uh, Mrs. Lane," Jake said with all the sincerity he could muster.

Ken smiled in a kindly manner. "Okay, glad to hear that. Do you know who did? Or what happened?"

"No, sir, I don't," Jake replied. Sweat was beading up on his upper lip. "But I
was
having an affair with her." He practically sighed with the relief of his admission.

"All right," Ken said in a neutral tone. "Did you go back to see her after the party?"

"I left around midnight; Tyler took me home, and Shaun too." Jake relaxed a bit. "We drove around a little bit and dropped Shaun off, so it was about 1:00 when I got home. You can check with them."

Ken smiled, showing no trace of irritation that his question hadn't been answered. "Did you leave home again later?" he repeated.

"No, sir, not until I went to practice Saturday morning. But I was with her Friday afternoon," Jake said.

"With her?" Ken requested clarification.

"Uh, we had sex." Jake was nervous at making the admission to the older man. Suddenly he felt awkward about his attraction to the teacher and didn't relish having the relationship referred to as cougar and cub. He didn't want to be laughed at.

"I see," Ken said. "When did you leave?"

"About 5:30. I had to be in the locker room by 6:00."

"I know you played the whole game Friday night, and did very well from what I've heard," Ken told him.

Jake preened a bit under the flattery. He knew he was a good player, but it was always nice to hear someone else say so. "Thank you, sir. I know I should have told you this before…"

"I understand, Jake," the policeman said. "The important thing is that you
have
told me."

"I know you can check DNA and you'd find out about me, so I realized I had to tell you about it first." Jake stood up and turned his back to Ken, pulling up his T-shirt.

Ken looked at the deep scratches on the boy's back. "Mrs. Lane did that to you?" he asked in surprise.

Jake lowered his shirt and sat back down. "Yes, sir, she did. I'd be happy to give you a DNA sample, right now if you want." Now that he'd made his confession his nerve almost broke; he could still be in a lot of trouble. "I
swear
I did not kill her, Lt. Freeman. Do you, uh, have to tell my parents about this?"

Chapter 34

"Play it again," Gracie requested. "I'm not sure I've got all the words yet."

Shawna, sitting at Gracie's desk, reached over and clicked the appropriate icon on the laptop. "You trying to memorize the words the first day it's out?" she asked.

"It's a
chick
song," Kelly complained. "I might have to leave if that's all you girls want to hear."

"Chill out," Cheryl replied. "You're outnumbered, Dude." The big grin on her dark face made it clear she was teasing him.

Kelly clapped his hands to his ears and made a face, but made no move to leave. Gracie had been friends with Shawna and Cheryl for a long time and while he enjoyed their company he'd had to work at being accepted. None of the four of them had been quite sure how to add him to the group. The other girls weren't jealous as best he could tell, but he knew they'd never forgive him if he hurt Gracie. Another big part was that they hadn't been sure how to deal with a guy who wanted to hang around a lot; the guys they dated hadn't yet figured out that's how you really got to know a girl. But they'd worked it out, and if he had to listen to some chick sing breathlessly about a lost love he figured it was a relatively small price to pay.

He watched Gracie's face as she listened to the music, noting that her blue eyes were sparkling with the emotion of the lyrics. She was singing along with the words she knew, while he was thinking how much more fun it would be to kiss her Cupid's bow mouth. She stopped singing and looked around in confusion, then pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans.

Kelly removed his hands from his ears (not that they had really done much good) and Shawna paused the song.

"Hi, Ken!" Gracie said to the phone. Though she concentrated on what he was saying she was aware of three pairs of eyes staring at her, knowing what this call had to be about. "Um, my friends are here now…uh huh, Kelly and Shawna and Cheryl, you know 'em…yes, of course…okay, bye."

"The cop's on his way out to talk to you about Mrs. Lane's murder," Cheryl said without question.

"He's only doing his job," Shawna protested. "I like him, he's a nice man."

"What, did he ask if he could trust us?" Kelly asked.

"Well, yes, since this case involves – or
could
involve – people we know, he did ask if he should wait until you guys were gone," Gracie admitted. A conspiratorial grin stole over her face. "But I'd just tell you guys all about it later, so he might as well tell you himself."

"We helped you with your Dad's, um, case," Cheryl said, clearly changing the word at the last second. "And we
know
these people, we can tell him all about 'em."

"It's okay, Cheryl; you can say 'murder' because that's exactly what it was," Gracie said. "But Ken's not so sure Mrs. Lane
was
murdered."

"He's
not
? Shawna asked in surprise. "What else
could
it be?"

"Maybe he's changed his mind," Kelly suggested. "He wants Gracie to help him figure out who done it."

All three girls groaned at his euphemism. "But we don't
know
who it was," Shawna insisted.

"We don't know what we don't know," Cheryl joked.

"Well, let's hear the song one more time, then I guess we ought to go to the front." Gracie looked around at the purple bean-bags they were sprawled in. "I don't think I should entertain a policeman in my bedroom!"

"I've got a better idea," Kelly said. "Why don't you bring us up to speed on what you already know."

"Spoilsport," Cheryl said.

Gracie stood up and started the music herself. "I'd rather Ken told you himself, just in case I missed something."

"You? Miss something?" Kelly asked. "I'll meet you guys in the front."

When Ken rang the bell a few minutes later they were sitting in the living room talking about the teacher and all the various theories they'd heard. Gracie brought Ken into the room and made introductions, just in case he'd forgotten which girl was which. She sat down and picked up a pad and pen from the coffee table, as if she were some kind of secretary.

"Nice to see you all again," Ken said as he took a seat. He had a good memory for names and faces (always a good trait for a cop) and remembered Gracie's friends well. Shawna, the blonde, was a little on the naïve side while the tall thin African-American girl, Cheryl, seemed to be less shocked at the things people did. He wondered if she deliberately tried to cultivate the world-weary attitude. He didn't know Kelly as well, though over the last several months Gracie had talked about her boyfriend enough that Ken had a pretty good idea what he was made of.

"Just as a reminder, this is an on-going case and anything I say isn't to be repeated." He made eye contact with each in turn to make sure they understood. The last time he'd talked to them about a case it had only involved Gracie's family; this time he'd be discussing their friends. But he trusted Gracie and Gracie trusted them; and besides, they could tell him things that none of the other students probably would.

"Okay, then. How much has Gracie told you?" he asked.

"Nothing," Shawna declared.

"She thought we should hear it from you," Kelly said.

"We know Mrs. Lane was found dead on Saturday morning, after the party on Friday night," Cheryl said factually. "It's all over school that she fell and hit her head, but no one seems to know what made her fall. Do you?"

"No, Cheryl, I don't," Ken answered her frank question. "Not yet, anyway. I
am
sure that she'd been drinking and that contributed to the fall. Guess I'd better start at the beginning. Mrs. Lane's neighbor saw her patio door standing open early Saturday morning and went over to close it; she saw Mrs. Lane on the floor, went in to check, and called 911. She told me about the party and said she'd seen a light-colored car parked in front of Mrs. Lane's house in the wee hours of the morning."

"My car's a light tan – but Cheryl and I didn't go to the party," Shawna said.

Ken smiled ruefully. "That isn't much to go on, and it's very likely that the car has nothing to do with the death. Thankfully many criminals are stupid, but they usually don't drive their own car to a murder."

"Not if they
intended
to commit murder," Gracie mused aloud.

"Exactly. The ME puts time of death between 1:00 and 3:00AM; according to the last hold-outs the party was over at 1:30 so that narrows it a bit. Her blood-alcohol level was .12, so she was definitely intoxicated. Cause of death was a blow to the head caused by a fall from the dining room onto the hard tile floor in the sunken living room. There was some skin under her fingernails, but no bruises or scratches or other indication she'd put up a fight of any kind. No signs of forced entry, and about a zillion fingerprints so they won't do us any good."

"Wow!" Cheryl said. "She was schnockered."

"Three sheets to the wind, as my Daddy would say," Ken agreed. "And of course the patio door was left standing wide open. We know that it was unlocked during the party and kids went in and out to the patio. We found an earring out there that belonged to…"

"That was Amy's," Gracie supplied.

"But Amy doesn't date," Shawna piped up. "She sure wouldn't have been out there with a
guy
."

"She doesn't smoke, either tobacco or pot, so that wasn't the reason," Cheryl added.

"It was a little warm in the house," Kelly said. "It's entirely possible she just went out for some fresh air or a quiet moment, but I didn't notice."

"Did either of you," here Ken nodded at Gracie and Kelly, "see anything odd outside during the party? Maybe a fight?"

Gracie looked thoughtful for a minute, trying to remember what had piqued her curiosity. "Jake and Meaghan were out there talking, they had their heads together like it was real serious, but they weren't fighting."

"Okay, given these facts, what do you think might've happened?" Ken asked.

"Since she was really drunk she could've just lost her balance and fallen," Shawna said.

"But the door was open which makes it look like someone left that way, and in too much of a hurry to close it," Kelly said.

"I suppose she could've been cleaning up," Cheryl suggested. "You know, she'd gone out to pick stuff up outside, came in to throw it away, and then gotten side-tracked by something else that needed doing in the living room and fell down the stairs." She stopped, having noticed the disbelieving looks of her friends. "My aunt drinks," she stated. "I've seen her do crazy stuff like that; she has the attention span of a gnat when she's drunk."

Ken nodded soberly. "People do strange things when they're drunk. It could've happened just that way."

"But what about the skin under her nails?" Gracie asked. "I'm assuming the ME didn't find scratches on her body where she'd scratched herself." She looked to Ken for confirmation. "Which means she scratched someone
else
. If someone pushed her off those steps maybe she reached out to grab his arm to keep from falling and scratched him."

"And the same thing could've happened if someone else was there and she just lost her balance. She would still have tried to stop her fall," Ken said.

Kelly nodded in comprehension. "There's nothing to indicate a physical fight, but she could've been yelling at someone. Or running from someone. Or maybe she scratched someone earlier in the day, and who knows how that might've happened."

"It'd be impossible to check out all the fingerprints, even on the door frame," Gracie mused. "Everyone at the party has an alibi of sorts, since there's no way to know when the prints were made. And the place was a mess when I left so you couldn't really tell if there was a scuffle."

"What do you all think of Jake Salazar?" Ken asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Jake?" Cheryl asked. "Great eye-candy, good running back, most of the girls would die to go out with him."

"Ditto," Shawna agreed. "But I wouldn't date him on a dare, he's got too many girlfriends already."

"Nice enough guy, but he'd better hope he gets signed to play football for some college 'cause he won't get there with
his
grades," was Kelly's opinion.

"He made that big scene with
Maggie
," Gracie added. She'd already told Shawna and Cheryl about that so no explanation was needed. "Why?"

"Would it surprise you to learn he'd been having an affair with Mrs. Lane?"

Shawna's face registered shock and Cheryl's showed bored acceptance; Gracie seemed a little surprised, while Kelly just looked disgusted. None of them made the connection to the scratches, for which Ken was grateful. Kids that age
shouldn't
know about that kind of rough sex.

"Ahem," he began, not quite knowing how to say this. "Some people like to, um, well – to scratch, or be scratched, during lovemaking. Please don't ask me to explain that."

Shawna looked horrified at the very thought, but the other three nodded a little uncertainly as if they had indeed heard about the practice.

"So Maggie scratched Jake," Cheryl said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Did you figure that out from the DNA?"

"Nope," Ken told them. "Jake came into the station this afternoon and told me all about it. He says it happened Friday after school, and before the game and party of course."

"So
he
says," Gracie said. "He could've come back to her house after the party and it happened then, just like we said."