Souls in Peril (49 page)

I love you, JD. Please don
’
t hate me for being weak. You were always so much stronger than me. Live on for the both of us.

Your friend, always,

Izzy

Max was on his knees. He must have dropped to them while he read. Mindy, the tenth grader from earlier, came up to him as he finished.

“JD, are you okay? You
’
re as white as a sheet.”

“No. No, I
’
m not.” He didn
’
t know what to do, or where to go. This was too big to dump on Em, but he needed someone who could help.

Suddenly
,
he knew exactly who to
go
to for help. He jumped to his feet, grabbed the padded envelope and
his backpack
, and ran full out to the locker room. He weaved around the other students in the hall. Max shoved the locker room door open and ran straight to Coach
’
s office. He
knocked on
the ajar door, panting for air.

“Coach, I need to talk to you,” he spit out between pants.

“Hi, JD,” he said without looking up. Jeff stood next to Coach.
He
did look up. “I
’
m afraid it
’
s going to have to wait. We are about to start our practice game. The
championship
. . .” Jeff tapped the Coach and pointed to JD.

“Do I need to get my bat?” Jeff asked.

“No. It
’
s Izzy.”

“I
’
ll use it to protect her
.
”

Coach placed his hand on Jeff
’
s arm. “Have the team run two laps. If I
’
m not out there by the time they
’
re done, go ahead run the practice like we talked about.” Jeff nodded and loped past Max. “Close the door behind you. What is it, son?”

Still panting, he handed him the letter Izzy
left for
him. Coach read it
quickly
. “Oh, jeez.” He snapped open his desk and grabbed his cell phone and his car keys. “Come on.” As they ran to Coach
’
s car, he called the police. “What
’
s her address, JD?”

“4222 Clinton Way. Tell them to hurry.” Max collapsed in the car, scared out of his mind.

“What
’
s this pact thing she talked about in the letter, JD?” he demanded.

“A suicide pact.” JD didn
’
t want Coach to know about it.
But
Max did. He continued. “On the night of the championship game
,
we were going to take a bunch of Percocet, then go out onto the baseball diamond and lay there until . . . Anyway, we wanted them to find us the next morning.”

Coach pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “Jeez, JD! That is a stupid thing to do! I told you I
’
d help you, all you had to do was ask. Why didn
’
t you ask me for help?”

“Coach, I changed my mind, and I
thought
I convinced Izzy also. We need to hurry.” Max laid his head back against the headrest
,
fighting the urge to vomit.

“Do you need me to pull over, son? You look like you
’
re about to throw up.”

He turned to Coach, and for a split second, he imagined seeing Tim instead of Coach driving. Max pressed himself against the door before realizing his emotions
got
the better of him.

“We can
’
t stop. I promise I won
’
t throw up in your car.”

“I
’
m not worried about my car, JD. I
’
m worried about you.”

“No. We need to keep going.”

“Alright.” Coach
’
s foot pressed down on the accelerator. When he turned onto Clinton Way, Max leaned forward into the windshield.

“That one, the two story,” Max pointed out. Coach tore into the driveway and Max bolted from the car before it stopped completely.

“JD,” Coach called after him, but he was already at the door. “Wait, son. Please.”

“No time,” Max said, twisting the doorknob. He shoved the unlocked door open and gasped.

Chapter 2
7

Black scarred the inside of Izzy
’
s pristine white house. Long
,
angry streaks,
most likely
from a paint brush
,
defiled the pure white couch. Splatters of black littered the white carpet and
the
white baby grand piano sitting in the corner. Max stepped inside, yelling out, “
Izzy
!” but got no response.
Both Coach and Max
dipped
their
finger
s
in
a
large
black spot
of paint
on the carpet. Dry. She hadn
’
t just done this.
He looked over at
Coach, and knew from the
grim
expression on his face, he t
hought
they were
too late.

Max
took off at an all-out run for the kitchen. Coach reached for him, but Max was faster.

“
Izzy
!” he yelled again, with Coach on his heels.

“
JD,
s
top
!
We need to wait for the police,” Coach said, finally reaching Max. He wrapped his hand around Max
’
s biceps, holding him back.

The kitchen
was
disaster
also
. Not only was the food from last night still out, but l
a
ying on its side was the fancy coffee grinder. Several small
,
dried
milk puddles littered the counter top
,
along with trace amounts of a powdery substance. The ground-up pills. Max
squeezed
his eyes shut.
This can
’
t be happening. This is just one of JD
’
s horrible nightmares.

“Let
’
s go back outside and wait for the police.”

“N
o
!” Max ripped his arm free and headed for the stairs. “
Izzy
!” He made it up two steps before the Coach hooked his arm around Max
’
s waist,
jerking him to a stop.

“Listen to me. This may be a crime scene. You can
’
t go around touching everything. You
’
ll contaminate it.”

“Crime scene? She
’
s trying to kill herself. What are they going to do
? A
rrest her?” Max tried to reel in the anger he felt. Coach only wanted to help. Then it hit him. “You
’
re not worried about this being a crime scene, you
’
re afraid I
’
m going to find her dead body and you don
’
t want
me
to freak out.”

“JD, please. Let
’
s go outside. I can hear the police sirens, they
’
re almost here.” The
concern
on Coach
’
s face touched Max. He really did care about JD.

Max twisted around to the open front door as two cop cars raced up her driveway. He tugged
against
the Coach
’
s arm, hoping maybe they
’
d be a distraction and he could break out of his grip. But Coach held tight. Three police officers, two male, one female ran up the front walk and in the door.

“I
’
m Officer Karren. Th
ese
are
Officers Davie and Andrews.
Is one of you the person
who called about a possible suicide?” asked the female cop.

“Yes. JD, give them the letter.” Max
peer
ed down at his hands
. T
hey were balled into fist
s
. In
his
right
fist he clenched
the letter. He handed the crumpled piece of paper to the cop.

“We need to keep looking. We haven
’
t found her yet.” Max tugged again but Coach didn
’
t let up. “We need an ambulance. And we have to hurry.”

“An ambulance is on the way,” assured Officer Davie.

“Alright
,
Davie, you come with me. Andrews, search the main floor,” directed Officer Karren. “You two need to stay right here.”

Max and Coach stepped out of the way as the cops split up. Max paced back and forth in the small entryway, stopping to look once again at the mess in the living room. Izzy
’
d even marred the walls with paint. As he turned back to the stairs, he spotted the painting of the family at the beach h
anging
on the living room wall next to the door. He
’
d been focus
ed
on the mess in the living room when he came in and missed it.

Izzy had destroyed it. Max stepped toward the painting.

“JD, we have to stay put.”

“I just want to
see
the painting. It
’
s right there,” he pointed. Coach looked around then nodded, following him to the painting.

The canvas held several small slashes, undoubtedly from a knife. A painted black X cover the parents, and the words
pervert
and
molester
painted in black
surrounded the father. Max sank to the ground.

“L
et
’
s go outside
, JD
. You need air.” Coach lifted Max up by his arm and led him outside. Max
hoofed
over to the car and sat down on the hood, still woozy.

“This is taking too long. Why can
’
t they find her?” He dropped his head between his knees.

An ambulance
rushed
around the corner and sped up to her house. A medic jumped out
of
the passenger door and ran to the b
ack, opening a side compartment.
He pulled
out a large black and silver box. The driver walked up to Coach, but before he could ask any questions, Officer Karren
, who
was speaking into
her talkie,
stepped outside. Max
watched as she
shook her head at the Medic. He nodded and put the box back in the ambulance.

“Wait! You have to help her. My friend is inside. She
’
s taken a bunch of pills. Please, she—”
The
plea
died in his mouth as he heard
Officer Karren
’
s request for the
coroner
over her talkie
.

Everything spun around him
.
T
rees, houses, lamppost
s
were all
a
blur. Max fell over. Thankfully one of the medics caught him before he crashed to the ground and half carried him to a shady spot
o
n the grass. Max flopped back, struggling to comprehend what
had
happened. Coach came over to him and sat down as the medic took his blood pressure.

“JD, are you okay?”

“Nope. I
’
m not even a little okay
.
” He stared up at the sky, trying to fathom
the reality
of
it all
. It felt like he lay there forever, waiting. He sat up as the coroner arrived. Max watched as the driver unloaded a stretcher and took it inside.
It was like
watching a
frightening
horror movie that he couldn
’
t walk out of.

“May I speak to you for a minute?” Max
peered
up
at the female cop standing over him and nodded. She squatted down. “I
’
m very sorry about your friend, JD. There
’
s nothing we could have done. She
’
s been gone for a while.”