Circle of Silence (16 page)

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The
ceremony of innocence is drowned.

W.B. Yeats

MP LOG

No one noticed me watching the parade. Doctors, nurses,
red-eyed mother, sobbing WiHi assholes.

It’s extremely amusing.
Campus News
spinning their wheels for so long trying to find me. And there I was.
Fifteen, maybe twenty feet away. Watching. Listening. Laughing my ass off.

I sat in plain sight across the hall. “Grandpa’s so out of
it,” I told the nurse, “he doesn’t recognize me.” She agreed it was very
sad.

After everyone left, I slipped across the hall. Took
pictures of him all tubed up. Close-ups of the bruises around his neck because
that shit’s awesome.

The genie’s out of the bottle—that’s for sure. And there’s
no way he goes back in. Been out ever since the new girl slipped on the ledge.
Phantom thinks I pushed her, but I didn’t. I got in close, and maybe she felt
something and moved too much to the right, but I can’t take credit. Just a lucky
accident that proved how easy it can be to terrify them. To show the world how
meaningless their petty lives are.

A rope. A box. A plan.

It’s all I needed to make a nightmare come true.

27

The bus pulls up in front of the glass-topped bus
shelter. The door hisses open and the three of us exit into a partly cloudy
afternoon. Not much wind, the temp hovers somewhere in the mid-forties. I go
straight into reporter mode, lock my feelings up tight and lead the boys through
Red Hook’s narrow streets.

“That’s it.”

Henry takes in the unused building, the fence. “How’d you get
inside?”

“I’ll show you.”

At the side yard, I point out the loose, rusted chain. Push the
gate to widen the gap. Henry slides in first. He helps Raul, who’s got at least
twenty pounds on him. I slip through last, and they fall in behind me as I move
toward the back door.

Something’s changed.

“That’s a different lock.” The new padlock is made of thick,
shiny steel. “The other one was broken and sort of hanging.”

“The cops must have contacted the owner,” Henry surmises. “Told
him to make sure no one gets in again.”

Even though I’m desperately trying to focus, my mind
swirls
. What if
I’d been ten minutes later?
What if
Jagger hadn’t kept his locator app
enabled?
What if
I hadn’t noticed the back door in
the dark…?

Henry senses I might lose my shit. He must also know that Raul
asked me to Winter Formal because he says, “How about you and Raul stay
together? I’ll cross the street and try to find someone who saw the kids. Maybe
we’ll get lucky.”

Swiftly, he retraces his steps.

“Val, if this is too hard—” Raul starts.

“Take out the camera.” Silently, I wait for him to get ready.
After he nods, I start speaking. “It was dark by the time I found the place.
Probably should have used my cell for light, but I was in a rush and not
thinking clearly. An animal brushed past me and I fell into that pile of rusted
machinery.”

Raul swivels to capture the scene. “Which made a lot of noise,
so you hid.”

“Right. Behind that trash can. No one came to look for me. By
the time it felt safe to continue, I saw that the back door was half-open. I
didn’t notice anyone leaving. Don’t know if they heard me and got out when I was
hiding or if they had a lookout. Maybe the plan was always to leave Jagger
alone.”

Raul stops shooting. “That doesn’t seem right. The point of an
initiation is that as soon as it’s over, you’re a member of the group.”

“Unless they were suspicious of Jagger the whole time. Who’s to
say one of them didn’t follow him to the Media Center and realize he’s in TV?
They might have figured out he was doing it for
Campus
News.
”

“This is some truly evil shit.” Raul restarts the camera. “What
happened next?”

“I pushed the door slowly so it wouldn’t squeak. I hoped the
initiation was still going on, that everything was okay. Except for a small
streak of light across the floor, it was pitch-black. Completely silent. I
called out. No one answered. That’s when I panicked. I ran into the room and
tripped over Jagger’s backpack.” I’m moving backward, showing Raul where I’d
gone on the other side of the wall. “About here. I picked up the flashlight and
that’s when I saw…”

I can’t go on. Raul moves forward and puts his arms around me
so that I don’t fall. It feels familiar—although the hug I remember isn’t his.
It’s Jagger’s. At my locker, after I found the bird…

“Hold on a sec!” Pushing Raul aside, I dump my backpack onto
the ground. Paw through the contents.

He squats beside me. “What are you looking for?”

I sit back on my heels. “Remember how we couldn’t figure out
who got my locker combo? I just realized it wasn’t Mrs. G., Lawrence or Tracy
Gardner. It was me.”

Raul cocks his head. “Who’d you tell?”

“No one. I mean, not specifically. But Marci and I always keep
the combo sheet we get at the beginning of the year in our backpacks, in case we
forget the numbers.” I point. “It’s not here.”

He gives me a skeptical look. “You could have tossed it by
accident.”

“No! Somebody got a hold of it. Maybe MP planned to put the
bird in my backpack, not the locker. But then they saw the combo. Decided it
would be scarier to tie a string around the poor thing’s neck and hang it.”

“Okay,” Raul says, “but I still don’t see how this helps.
Anyone at school could have found the numbers.”

“Not really. I keep the backpack with me every second of the
day—except for one class. We all leave our bags—”

“In the Media Center.” Raul blinks. “You don’t think someone on
the team—”

“Not us. A Team.”

His brow furrows. “Really?”

I remember a line from one of the emails:
There are spies everywhere.

“Think about it. Suppose one of the people on A Team is in MP.
They check the list of stories on the whiteboard. They’re at the Wednesday
presentations. They go back and report it to the group. That’s how MP knows we
haven’t figured out who they are. That’s the reason they keep going, getting
bolder each time.”

Slowly, thoughtfully, he puts the camera back into the case.
“It’s possible. Anything’s possible. But it’s hard to believe anyone on A Team
hates us so much that they’d leave Jagger in the building, alone.”

“Hailey can’t stand me. Never could. Still doesn’t explain why
she’d do that to Jagger—”

“Unless she has a thing for him—and it wasn’t returned.”

“Hell,
that
explains something.” I
tell him about the conversation in the Media Center. “Hailey was mad at me for
no real reason. If she knew Jagger and I went out last year…” My voice peters
out. Raul doesn’t notice the slip—or if he does, he decides to ignore it.
Hurriedly, I add, “She accused
me
of making it up
just so I could get the story. She could be doing that thing magicians do. Focus
my attention someplace else so I don’t notice what’s in front of me.”

“Let’s think this scenario through slowly,” Raul suggests.
“Hailey’s in MP. She’s also in love with Jagger, who couldn’t care less. He
shows up in class at the beginning of the year, gets put on our team.
Your
team. MP starts doing all that stuff. We work the
story hard, which pisses Hailey off even more. She tries to blame you—”

“But that doesn’t work. So she steals the locker combo from my
backpack, hangs the dead bird in my locker. Tries to scare us off the
story—along with a personal screw-you.”

Raul nods. “Jagger puts the application in the box—”

“And Hailey gets MP to choose him. So she has a better chance
of hooking up.”

Raul leans against the building. “First flaw in the logic. Jags
thought they chose him because they don’t know he’s in TV, right?”

“Unless they knew and were playing him. Or Hailey didn’t care
or didn’t think it mattered. She might have thought he was trying to mess with
our team. That he was turning on us. On me. What does it matter?” I sling the
backpack over my shoulder. “If Hailey’s in MP, any explanation is possible.”

28

The team gathers at Marci’s. She throws a bag of
chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table and slumps onto the couch. “We got
nothing. No matter what Omar or I said, Taneisha refused to talk about MP or the
accident.”

“She acted completely clueless. But I get why Val thinks she
knows something. There’s something fishy about that girl.” Omar tears the bag
open with his teeth. “What about Red Hook? Anything?”

Henry shakes his head. “The guys I talked to said it’s a ghost
town after five. MP could’ve used the building a hundred times. As long as they
met after work hours, or on a weekend, they’d be invisible.”

Raul and I exchange a look. “All we got is a theory. Val?”

I repeat what I told Raul. The team is so desperate for a lead,
any lead, that no one questions the possibility. The only concern is how to
approach Hailey. We finally decide that a surprise attack, when she least
expects it, is best.

Just before everyone takes off, Henry’s phone pings.

“Hold on, guys,” he calls out.

Marci leans over to read the text message. “What does ‘K Pawn
to e4’ mean?”

“It’s an opening gambit. Toby wants me to call. She obviously
found something.” Excited, Henry hits the reply button. “Come on, come on—hey,
what you got?”

We wait impatiently as Toby goes through an obviously obsessive
explanation of how she tracked down the email address. After a few minutes,
Marci does a hand-circling “Get on with it” gesture.

Henry ignores her, listens some more, then asks, “You sure?”
Pause, then, “Owe you a game.”

Marci bounces impatiently on the couch. “Finally! What did she
say?”

“Whoever sent the emails routed them through Val’s
computer.”

“What?” Marci asks.

“It appears as if they were sent from her own computer,” Henry
explains. “To herself.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I protest. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course not.” Henry’s voice has more than a touch of
admiration. “It’s not the hardest thing in the world to do if you know anything
about hacking. At least that’s what Toby said. The original IP address was
switched out for your computer ID, Val. Insanely clever. That way, no one can
track down who sent them.”

Raul looks thoughtful. “After we talk to Hailey tomorrow, a
couple of us should speak to Toby. Find out if she has any idea who at WiHi has
mad hacking skills and can fake an IP address!”

* * *

Orange Street is quiet, a few blocks north of the heart
of Brooklyn Heights. Before school the next day, the team meets opposite
Hailey’s building. The air is chilly. Marci looks particularly miserable that
she had to get out of bed earlier than usual. No one speaks until Omar raises
his voice.

“Hailey! Over here!”

She looks surprised, and then amused, as we surround her. “If
you’re trying to kidnap me for ransom money, you’re out of luck. My folks don’t
have a dime.”

“Funny.” Marci pulls her into the alley.

“Can someone tell me—” Hailey turns pale. “Did something happen
to Jagger?”

“He’s the same,” Henry mumbles.

“That’s a relief.” Nobody responds, because it’s not a relief
at all. “What’s this about?”

“We need the truth,” I say.

“Please,” Marci adds. “It’s not like we’re accusing you of
doing it by yourself—”

“Doing what by myself?” Hailey seems genuinely confused. “You
think I’m the one who got Jagger to stick his neck in a rope? I don’t do that
kind of stuff.”

“He wasn’t playing Pass Out,” Henry says. “He was getting
initiated into MP.”

Hailey blinks. “Oh-kay. Someone’s going to have to
explain.”

“Maybe you should. What were you doing that night?” Raul
demands. “The night Jagger got hurt.”

Hailey’s eyes flick around the group, then land on me. “You
fucking bitch! You think I had something to do with it? That I’m MP?”

“Are you?” Henry asks. “Maybe someone else on your team—”

“Are you nuts? Besides the fact that nobody on A Team would
ever
do that to anyone, none of us has time to
freaking breathe, let alone join some secret society and plan weird-ass pranks.
Benny’s aunt is sick, so he has to pitch in until his mom comes back from
Florida. Both Leni and Scott took two days off to finish their early-deadline
college applications. We’re one segment short this week—” She looks around the
group, hate making her body rigid. “If anything, it’s Val who set this up. You
guys ever consider that? She’ll do anything to get ahead!”

“Let’s not do this,” Raul says. “I believe you when you say
it’s not you, but it’s not Val, either. You understand why we had to ask, right?
We figured the only way everything makes sense is if there’s an insider in TV
Production.”

The fight leaves Hailey as the impact hits. “Jagger did it for
the story?” She leans limply against the wall. “Put his neck in a noose
and…damn!”

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s crazy.”

“When was this exactly?”

“The Friday before Thanksgiving. Why?”

“No reason,” she says. “Just, you know, I didn’t remember the
exact day.” She gives me a funny look. “Don’t you have tape?”

“Excuse me?”

“When Jagger met MP. Didn’t you shoot it? That’s what I would
have done.”

“I couldn’t. I wasn’t there—”

Immediately, I shut up. I should have realized something long
before this moment.

* * *

We pass the bagel shop on the way to WiHi. Raul nudges
me. “Got a couple of dollars? I didn’t eat breakfast—and don’t have any
money.”

“Sure.” Waving the others ahead, I dig into my backpack. “What
kind do you like?”

“Sesame.” He grins.

The store is warm, windows steamy with morning goodness. It’s
too bad I don’t drink coffee because the scent of fresh-made smells delicious.
Not burned, which for some reason is the way Mom seems to brew it.

Raul and I settle at the table farthest from the door. In front
of us, two toasted bagels are smeared with cream cheese. He takes a huge bite of
his, chews it down before saying, “Okay, Valerie, spill.”

“First, when did you start sounding like Marci? And second, I
don’t know what you mean.”

“I saw your face when we talked to Hailey. Something upset you.
Besides the fact that she called you a bitch.”

I lean back. “She’s right. Jagger planned to shoot as much of
the initiation as he could with Mr. Carleton’s little demo camera.”

“And…?”

“In the confusion, I forgot about that.”

“How was he going to capture anything without them knowing? Did
he hide the camera in his jacket?”

I shake my head. “Backpack. He was afraid he’d have to take off
his coat.”

Raul swallows another bite of bagel. “He couldn’t have gotten
the camera going. The cops would have watched the footage. They’d realize
something’s up because MP would have to tell Jagger what to do with the rope. He
didn’t know ahead of time.”

“Except the police might
not
have
found the camera.” Raul’s eyebrows rise like double question marks. “Jagger hid
it pretty well.”

“Cops aren’t stupid. I’m sure they checked.”

I laugh grimly. “Jagger worked it out himself. He was very
proud of the idea. Said he read some James Bond novel where the spy hides a gun
inside a paperback.”

“No way,” Raul breathes.

“Way. He took his copy of
A Separate
Peace
and hollowed a space big enough for the camera. Then he cut a
hole on the cover exactly where the lens is. He showed it to me. You’d have to
know what to look for to notice it.”

“So, what was he going to do? Take out the book and say, ‘Go
ahead and initiate. I’ll just sit here and read my English assignment’?”

“He put it in the side pocket.” I lift my backpack. “It’s mesh
like this one. All he had to do was press Record. He practiced in the mirror so
he could do it without anyone noticing.”

“Genius,” Raul admits. “You think the police missed it?”

“What else could it be? The camera is so light, even if a cop
picked up the book, they might not notice. Actually, they probably didn’t even
take it out of the pocket. Jagger’s in high school. They’d expect him to have a
book.”

“Mrs. Orapessa’s going to be pissed it’s ruined,” Raul mutters.
It’s the kind of random thought that’s been beaten into us throughout thirteen
years of public school.

“There are extras in the book room. What we need to worry about
is finding Jagger’s backpack.”

Raul glances at the painted bagel-clock that hangs behind the
counter. “It’s early. If we’re lucky, Mrs. Voorham’s still home. It’s closer
than going to the hospital.”

First period’s almost over, so why not ditch the rest of the
day? “I know where he lives.”

“I bet.”

Uh-oh.

There’s a definite undercurrent in his voice. Does Raul suspect
something went on between Jagger and me? Getting up to throw the paper plates
away, I pretend I didn’t hear.

* * *

My first impression of the woman who opens the door is
that we’re looking at Jagger’s grandmother. But then the voice, dull with
exhaustion and worry, greets me by name.

“Come in, Val.”

“Hi, Mrs. Voorham. This is Raul. He’s a friend of Jagger’s,
too.”

“How is he?” Raul asks gently.

Jagger’s mom sinks into a living-room chair. Without being
invited, Raul and I take the couch. “They took out the breathing tube
yesterday.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” I ask.

Helpless, her shoulders rise and fall. “He’s breathing on his
own but still unresponsive. No one knows what’ll happen next.”

Jagger’s story about his mom makes me worried. “He’ll be okay,
Mrs. Voorham. You have to hang in there. For Jagger’s sake. That’s what we’re
all doing.”

She nods and I pray that means she’ll be all right. The silence
in the room hangs like a cloud, dark and heavy. After a few moments, Raul clears
his throat.

“Mrs. Voorham, Val and I were wondering if you have Jagger’s
backpack.”

“What?” She makes an effort to focus. “His backpack? I don’t
know.”

“Maybe the police gave it to you,” I say. “After, you know, at
the hospital.”

“Did Jagger have it with him when…?” She can’t continue. Her
face is so pale.

“Why don’t I get you some water?” I ask. “I know where the
kitchen is.”

“Ummm…” Even that is hard for her to decide.

“I’ll be right back.”

The kitchen is separated from the living room by a half wall. I
run the tap, fill a glass and glance back to see Jagger’s mom and Raul talking
quietly. Taking advantage of her distraction, I step into Jagger’s room. Perhaps
Mrs. Voorham forgot she put the backpack in there.

Standing in the bedroom is impossibly hard. Jags actually made
his bed because we were supposed to meet here to transfer the footage to his
laptop. Swallowing hard, I glance around the room. No backpack. That means the
cops have it. A huge obstacle. It’ll be harder for Raul and me to convince them
to give it to us than it would be Jagger’s mom.

She takes the glass with a soft “Thank you.”

Raul stands. “We’ll visit him later today. You should try to
get some sleep, Mrs. Voorham.”

She hesitates, not quite able to let us go. “The kids have been
great. So many of Jagger’s friends stopped by the hospital. I don’t recognize
half of them.”

“He’s kind of popular. Really, if you ever want company, or you
need something, please call me. I live close.” I scribble my phone number on a
piece of paper and place it on the coffee table. As I move to give her a goodbye
hug, I notice Raul staring at the half-open coat closet. I follow his eyes.
There, on the floor, is exactly what we’ve been looking for.

“You did get Jagger’s backpack!” I say. “It’s in the closet.
Would you mind if I look through it? Jagger, um, borrowed something I need.”

“Oh.” She rubs her eyes. “I can’t remember. Everything’s so
confusing….”

The backpack lies on its side. I check the pocket. The book is
exactly where I hoped it would be.