Hawk Moon (14 page)

"I'm going with you."

"What?"

"You can't drive your car. They'll be looking for you. You can't drive mine, either. But I'll drive."

"Are you sure?"

She smiled. "Positive."

C
orey
Ridder
slid behind the wheel of her ten-year-old Mustang. She leaned over, popped open the lock, and Will dropped into the bucket seat. Seconds later, she backed out of the parking space. She was about to head for the exit to the street behind the school when a patrol car pulled into the lot.

"Go around the other way." Will slid down low in the seat.

Corey's heart pounded as she headed for the front exit. She stopped near the corner of the school and saw three patrol cars parked near the front entrance. "Uh-oh. Maybe I should turn around."

Will lifted his head and peered over the dashboard. "No, it'll look too suspicious. Just drive by like nothing is going on."

She held her breath as she drove past the empty patrol cars, and didn't exhale until she was on the street and driving away.

Just five minutes ago, the idea of going somewhere with Will had been a dream. She never expected it would really happen and certainly not this way. "Where should we go?"

"To my house. It's over on—"

"I know where you live." She shrugged, embarrassed. "I noticed the address when I was looking at the administration files." Then she quickly added, "What about the police? They might come looking for you there."

"I don't care. I've got to talk to my father." Will sat up again.

A few minutes later, she drove up to the three-story house on the edge of downtown. "It looks like my grandfather is out. His Land Rover's gone. Let me check the house."

Will raced to the door, unlocked it, and disappeared inside. Corey looked around feeling uneasy, expecting to see police cars at any moment. The front door slammed shut, and Will dashed back to the car.

"My dad must be out somewhere with my grandfather. He's got a car phone in the Land Rover, but it's turned off. Let's head over to my mother's shop."

As she drove away, Will touched Corey's arm. "Wait. I've got another idea. Go over to West End."

"What's there?"

"Tom Burke's place."

"Burke. That's the guy in the message. Do we really want to talk to him?"

"He's my mother's boyfriend, and I'm thinking that ol'
Fanz
just might be telling the truth."

Corey knew Will was caught in some sort of intricate web and she wondered if she was following him right into the heart of it. But oddly enough, she didn't care. She knew Will was innocent and she wasn't going to let him down.

"What are you going to say to him?"

"I don't know. I've got to think about it."

She nodded and forced herself to concentrate on pleasant thoughts to stay calm. She was with Will in her car, cruising around town. A dream come true. She tried to casually glance in the rearview mirror to see what her hair looked like. Probably a mess. Nothing she could do about it.

"This whole thing is about drugs," Will said, "a designer drug from Los Angeles. "But I don't understand why someone in the sheriff's office would be sending me these messages. What's the point?"

"Maybe someone's trying to get back at Burke for some reason."

Corey turned onto West End, and a block later Will pointed to a restored old Victorian house. "Do you know what you're going to say now?" she asked as she parked on the street.

"Nothing. His car's not here. I don't think he's home, but I remember my mother telling me about a spare key."

"You mean you want to go inside and look around?"

"Yeah. You can stay here."

"No, I'm going with you."

She zipped her jacket to her throat as they headed up the walkway. The sky was overcast, and after a couple of mild days, the temperature had plummeted and now hovered around freezing. They walked around the side of the old wood-frame house, then followed a flagstone path to a carriage house set back amid a stand of tall pines. Decades ago, the building had probably been used to store buggies and later cars until it was converted to a small apartment.

They stopped in front of the door and Will knocked. When there was no answer, he took a step back and looked puzzled.

"Where did your mother say the key was hidden?"

"That's the problem. I can't remember." He lifted the mat, but there was nothing beneath it. He tried to lift one of the flagstones near the door, but it wouldn't budge.

Corey, meanwhile, rose up on her toes and reached for the door ledge, but her fingertips just brushed the edge of the ledge. "Do you want me to give you a boost?" Will asked.

She hesitated. "Okay."

He wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her. She ran her hand along the ledge and knocked off something hard and flat that clattered to the ground.

Will eased her down and they both bent over and reached for the key, nearly bumping heads. She found it first and Will's fingers fell across the back of her hand. She looked up at him, their faces just inches apart.

"I've got it," she said in a soft voice. She handed it to him as they both stood up. Will looked embarrassed; she felt light-headed.

He put the key into the lock and opened the door. They stepped inside and Will quickly closed the door. The apartment was one large room with a high ceiling plus a bathroom. There was no kitchen, but a microwave oven and a toaster oven were kept on a shelf built along one wall. Next to it was an oak table with three chairs. There was no bed, but Corey guessed the couch folded out.

Will walked over to a roll-top desk and opened the top drawer. He rummaged through it, then moved on to another drawer. "Look at this!"

He held up a small plastic bag that was half full of a pale blue powder. Corey had never thought that anyone could look triumphant and disappointed at the same time, but that was exactly how she would describe Will's expression.

"What does it mean, Will?"

"I don't know. But I don't like it."

He stuffed the bag in his pocket and opened a file drawer. "Oh no."

"What is it?" she asked.

Will reached back behind a cluster of files and lifted out a large plastic freezer bag. It was stuffed with the blue powder.

"He must be dealing it," she said. "Do you think your mother knows about it?"

Will shook his head. "No, not my mother. I think he's got her fooled. Whenever she gets onto one of her antidrug kicks, Burke sits there and nods. But sometimes he sort of smirks. Now I know why."

"We better get out of here."

He shoved the bag back behind the files and closed the drawer. "I just want to look through a couple of more drawers."

Anxious to leave, Corey wandered over to a bookshelf near the door that was lined with videocassettes. She glanced at a few of the movie titles, then leaned closer as she noticed a slim black book wedged between
The Last Seduction
and
Speed.

She felt guilty about snooping into someone else's belongings, but that was precisely why they'd come here. She opened the leather-bound booklet and paged through it.

"What is it?" Will asked.

"Just an address book. Names and telephone numbers. We better get out of here."

"Let me see it." Just as she handed the book to him, she saw movement in the yard. "Will, someone's coming up the walk."

There was no place to hide, no other doors. "What are we going to do?"

"Get down."

Will darted to the door and locked it. Then he dropped to his hands and knees and pointed to the kitchen table. There was a tablecloth on it that hung low over the sides. They crawled under it and huddled against the wall, their knees pulled tightly to their chests. Corey bit her lower lip and tried not to breathe.

She heard the key slip into the lock. The door opened and she saw a pair of boots and jeans from the knees down as someone, probably Burke, entered the apartment. He stopped by the table, his legs almost within reach. The room was completely quiet. It was as if he sensed their presence or something different about the room.

Then she heard a soft slap like a magazine or a stack of mail dropped on the table. The boots moved across the floor and into the bathroom. As the water was turned on in the sink, Will lifted a chair by the two front legs and carefully moved it out of the way. Then he crawled toward the door.

Corey didn't need any encouragement. She followed close behind. They stood up just as the water was turned off. Will put his hand on the doorknob. The toilet seat clattered down.

He eased the front door open and they sidled out. Corey darted through the grass, avoiding the flagstones. She moved around the side of the main house and could see her Mustang parked across the street when she heard a car door slam shut. She slowed and Will caught up to her.

"Wait!" he hissed, touching her shoulder. He moved past her, edging along the side of the house to the front corner. A moment later, he turned back.

"Somebody's coming!"

They darted around the back of the house, pressed up against it. Corey heard footsteps, then saw a big, muscular guy with red curly hair walk by and continue on to Burke's apartment. She didn't see his face, but she thought he looked familiar.

"That's Claude Kirkpatrick," Will whispered. "What's he doing here?"

The sheriff's son,
she thought. She'd seen him in the computer lab, and suddenly she started making connections, putting things together that hadn't made sense.

Claude tapped on the door, opened it, and disappeared inside. Corey was ready to get away, but Will motioned toward the house. "I'm going to see what I can find out." With that, he sprinted across the grass.

"Wonderful," Corey muttered. But she wasn't going to be left behind. She dashed across the yard and caught up with Will beneath a window. It was open a couple of inches and she could hear voices.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I'm sorry. It was that damn drug. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You can blame everything on the drug, but the fact is you messed up big-time."

"If it wasn't for you and the drug, Myra would still be alive. The more I thought about what happened, the madder I got."

"Yeah, and you came close, very close, to sending us all to the slammer. Have they arrested Will yet?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Will turned away and motioned Corey toward the street. She was more than happy to comply. As they crept away, she heard Burke cursing loudly. She was sure that Claude had just told him that Will had evaded the police.

Corey raced for the car and didn't look back until she was in the driver's seat.

"Let's go," Will said, slamming the passenger door shut. "I can't believe it. Here I thought Claude was my friend."

"It doesn't make sense, but he could be the one sending the messages," Corey said, puffing away from the curb. "He could've found his father's password and gotten into the system."

"But why?" Will asked. "He's in it with Burke." Corey didn't have an answer.

"Let's go to my mother's place," Will said. He gave her directions to a clothing shop four blocks away.

They turned onto Hopkins Avenue and headed toward the center of downtown. A block later, Corey peered into the rearview mirror. She sucked in her breath. "Will, do you still have the little bag of the Chill with you?"

"Yeah."

"There's a city police car right behind us."

"Oh, great," Will muttered. "This is all I need. If I'm caught with this drug, no one's ever going to believe anything I say." He reached into his pocket for the crumpled bag. "Maybe I should throw it out the window."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Will sunk lower in his seat. "Is he flashing his light?"

"Not yet. Oh, there. He turned."