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Authors: Norah McClintock

BOOK: Nowhere to Turn
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Mr. Schuster's front door swung open before I had a chance to knock. Elliot and Claudia stared out at me.

“I'm surprised you had the nerve to come back here,” Elliot said.

“I took Orion for his walk, just like I told you,” I said. When he heard the word
walk
, Orion barked. Claudia edged behind her husband.

“You have to do something about that animal, Elliot,” she said.

“He's a good dog,” I said. “But he's also a big dog. He needs plenty of exercise. He's not used to being cooped up in the basement all the time.”

“Thank you, but I don't think we need your advice,” Elliot said stiffly. He handed me an envelope. “Your services are no longer needed. This is what I owe you. You deceived me, Robyn. You led me to believe that you're a friend of my father's—”

“I am.”

“You conveniently forgot to mention that you're also a friend of that young thief. You told Connor that you didn't know Nick, but Connor told me what he heard your friend say this afternoon.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Elliot cut me off. A telephone rang.

“Don't bother to deny it,” he said. “You also told Connor that someone at the animal shelter told you that my father was sick. Well, I called the shelter. They didn't even know he was ill. He hasn't been there in months. Neither have you. I also asked them about your background. They said you and Nick are friends. But you're more than friends, aren't you?” My cheeks turned red.

Isobel came down the stairs. She must have overheard her father because she looked embarrassed. She mouthed a word:
Sorry
.

“Mom,” she said. “Telephone for you.”

Claudia looked relieved to have an excuse to duck into the den. She closed the door behind her. I turned back to Elliot.

“I know Nick,” I admitted. “But I didn't lie about being a friend of your father's. I am. When I heard he was sick—”

“Nick told you, didn't he?” Elliot said. “Did he also tell you to come here? Are you looking for something else to steal?”

“No. I—”

He held the door open for me.

“Good night,” he said firmly.

I handed him Orion's leash. Orion growled. Elliot stiffened. Orion growled again and jumped up on Elliot. As Elliot dropped the leash, I scooped it up.

“Do you want me to put him in the basement for you?” I said.

Elliot hesitated a moment before stepping aside to let me enter. I kept a firm grip on Orion's leash while I pulled off my boots.

Elliot crossed his arms and watched me lead Orion into the basement. When I emerged a couple of minutes later, he looked like he hadn't moved a muscle.

“If you call the animal shelter, they should be able to refer you to a dog-walking service,” I said.

Elliot didn't acknowledge the suggestion. While I was putting my boots back on, Claudia came out of the den. She still looked nervous, even though the dog was safely in the basement.

“Who was that?” Elliot asked her.

“Someone from one of the nursing homes I called earlier,” Claudia said. Her eyes darted to me for a moment. “They're going to send us some information.”

Elliot opened the door for me. I hated to leave Orion there alone. I hoped he would be okay.

It was dark by the time I left the Schuster house. I glanced at my watch as I hurried up the street.
I should call Ben
, I thought,
and tell him I might be a little late
. I was out of breath by the time I reached the bus stop in front of a boarded-up corner store two blocks from Mr. Schuster's house. It was freezing out and the wind was harsh. There were houses nearby, but there were hardly any lights on in any of them.

Somewhere behind me, I heard a car door slam, but I didn't think anything of it. I started to slip my backpack off my shoulder so that I could get my phone out. Started but never finished, because someone grabbed me from behind and clapped a hand over my mouth. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged down the alley that ran alongside the abandoned store.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

I

tried to dig my heels in, but the arms around me were too strong, and the street grew more and more distant. So I fought back. At least, I tried to.

I lashed out with both hands, trying to strike backward at my attacker. He wrapped a powerful arm around me, pinning both my arms to my sides.

I kicked at him and landed a blow on one of his shins. He muttered a curse. The arm that had been pinning me suddenly released me. Adrenaline surged through me. Maybe I could break free. Maybe I could run. Then, suddenly, he wrenched my left arm up behind my back. Pain surged through me. I gasped and stopped struggling.

“That's better,” a gravelly voice said. “Now tell your boyfriend to hand over those coins. He knows what to do with them. Tell him if he doesn't hand them over, someone will get hurt. You got that?”

He jerked my left arm farther upward. I almost passed out from the pain.

“And just so he knows we're serious . . .”

He shoved me and I cried out. I crashed into some garbage cans and fell. As I hit the ground, I heard a sickening crunch. A searing pain shot up my arm. Everything went black for a moment. When my vision cleared, my attacker was gone.

I struggled to my knees and felt the chill from the snow seeping into my joints. I slowly shrugged out of my backpack and almost passed out again from the pain. With my right hand, I opened it and fumbled inside for my cell phone.

It rang before I could punch in any numbers.

“Hey, Robyn.” It was Ben. “I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up. That way—”

“Someone attacked me,” I said. “I think my arm is broken.”

“What? Where are you?”

I told him. I said, “Call 9-1-1, Ben. Do it now.”

They told me later that it was only three minutes from the time I ended my call with Ben to the time the ambulance arrived, but it seemed a lot longer. A police cruiser showed up a few seconds later.

At the hospital, they X-rayed my arm and told me that the doctor would be with me soon. While I waited, one police officer went to call my father. A second officer stayed with me.

“Can you tell me exactly what happened?” he said.

“I was waiting for the bus. Someone grabbed me and dragged me into an alley. I tried to get away from him, but he twisted my arm and then pushed me.” I was still shaking. I could still hear the crunch my arm had made when I'd landed. “I didn't know what he was going to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep back the tears.

The officer waited for a moment before asking, “Did you get a look at the person who attacked you?”

I shook my head. “It was dark. He grabbed me from behind.”

“Can you tell me anything about him—anything at all?”

“He had a deep voice. And he was strong.”

“Did you see what he was wearing—maybe when he made his escape?”

“No.” Wait. That wasn't completely true. “Gloves. He was wearing dark gloves. I think they were leather.”

“Did you notice anything else about him? Anything else he was wearing?”

“No.”

“Could you tell if he was tall or short?”

“He was taller than me.” Or maybe he just seemed bigger because he was so much stronger than me.

“You say he had a deep voice. What did he say?”

I hesitated. The man who attacked me made it clear that he wanted me to deliver a message. He wanted the coins, and he'd said that Nick knew what to do with them. So for some reason, he believed that Nick had Mr. Schuster's coins. But if I told the police what he had said, wouldn't it just confirm what they already believed—that Nick really had stolen the coins? I decided to keep that part of the story to myself, at least until I had had a chance to talk to Nick again.

“He told me to be quiet,” I said instead.

“Did you recognize his voice? Did it sound familiar?”

“No.”

“What happened after he told you to be quiet?”

“I tried to get away from him, and he pushed me down.” I couldn't help myself. My eyes filled with tears again. The cop handed me another tissue.

“I know this is difficult,” he said. “But I have a few more questions, okay?”

I nodded.

“The man who attacked you, did he try anything?”

“No.”

“Did he try to make you go with him?”

“No.”

“What did he do after he pushed you down?”

“He left.”

The officer frowned. “Did something scare him off?”

“I don't know.”

“He just pulled you down the alley, pushed you down, and then left? He didn't try to force you to go with him?”

“No.”

I could see he wasn't satisfied with my answer.

“Can you think of any reason why someone would want to hurt you?” he said. “Has anyone threatened you? Any trouble at school? Maybe with a boyfriend or former boyfriend?”

“No.”

The curtains parted, and the other police officer came in, followed by a doctor and a nurse.

The police officer said, “Your father is on his way here.”

“In the meantime, we're going to set that arm,” the doctor said.

When they had finished, my arm was in a cast up past my elbow. It was still throbbing. After the doctor left, the nurse said, “There's a young man waiting outside for you. Do you want to see him?”

“Yes, please,” I said.

Ben's face was pale with worry and concern. I had forgotten all about him.

“Robyn, are you okay?” he said. He took my right hand in his. “Okay, stupid question.” He looked at my cast and sling. “You must have been terrified.”

Just like that, it all came out. I started to sob this time. I'd thought the man was going to really hurt me. And when I remembered that voice rumbling in my ear . . .

Ben hugged me, taking care not to hurt my arm.

“You're safe now,” he said. He was still holding me when the curtains parted and my father stepped into the cubicle. He wasn't alone.

Nick was with him.

“Robbie, are you all right?” my father said. Ben stepped back from the bed to let him pass. My father held me gently by the shoulders. “They said a man attacked you and dragged you into an alley.”

I nodded.

“What happened?”

“I'd just taken Orion back to Elliot Schuster and—”

I glanced at Nick. He'd been staring at Ben, but he looked with surprise at me. My father looked at both boys.

“I don't believe you two know each other,” he said. “Ben, this is Nick D'Angelo. Nick, Ben Logan.” Ben stiffened at the mention of Nick's name, but he thrust out a hand. After a moment's hesitation, Nick took it. “Now if you two don't mind, I'd like to talk to Robyn alone for a minute.”

Nick left first. Ben followed, walking stiffly. He didn't even glance at me.

My dad inspected me and engulfed me in a giant but gentle bear hug. When he finally released me, he said, “Where exactly did this happen, Robbie?”

“A couple of blocks from Mr. Schuster's house,” I said. “Dad, why is Nick with you?”

“First things first. You'd just dropped off the dog and then . . .?”

“Then I went to catch the bus. I was supposed to meet Ben downtown.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

I hesitated. Should I tell him the truth? If it didn't match what the police had already told him, he would notice right away. He would insist that I talk to them again and tell them everything. He believed in being honest with the police and telling them everything so that they could do their job. But I couldn't help but think that in this case, telling them everything would only hurt Nick. I wasn't prepared to do that—at least not until I gave him a chance to explain. I drew in a deep breath and told my dad the same thing I had told the police. He frowned through the whole story.

“Why is Nick with you, Dad?”

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