Nowhere to Turn (17 page)

“You can take another one in six hours if you need to,” he said. He leaned forward to look at me. “Robbie, I need you to tell me again what happened.”

I repeated what I had already told him—and the police—at the hospital.

“Do you remember anything else about the man who attacked you? Anything at all?” he said.

I shook my head. I hadn't seen anything except his gloves.

“So you were waiting for the bus, and this man came up behind you and grabbed you, is that right?”

“He put a hand over my mouth, told me not to scream, and dragged me down an alley beside a store. When I struggled, he twisted my arm. I thought he was going to dislocate my shoulder. Then he pushed me and I fell.”

My dad frowned, just as he had at the hospital. “Did he say anything first? Threaten you in any way?”

I don't like to lie to my dad. I hardly ever do it. But I knew what he would do if I told him the truth: make me tell the police. I just needed a little more time. I needed to hear Nick's side of the story. I owed him that.

“It doesn't make sense,” my father said. “Why did he grab you? “Robbie, this man didn't . . .he didn't try to get you to go with him, did he?”

Police officers and ex-police officers—they all think alike.

“No, nothing like that. He just grabbed me, that's all. Maybe he was crazy.”

My dad's frown deepened. “It's not like you were in a dangerous neighborhood.”

“You're always telling me to be aware of my surroundings, that crime doesn't just happen in poor areas.”

“True.” He looked at the cast on my arm. “Your mother's going to have a fit when she hears what happened.”

I wasn't looking forward to telling her, but there was no way to avoid it. My arm wouldn't be healed by the time she and Ted returned from their vacation.

“You sure there isn't anything else you can tell me about what happened, Robbie?”

“I'm sure. I'm going to try to get some sleep, Dad.”

He nodded. “That's probably a good idea.”

I passed the kitchen on the way to my room, where Nick was wiping off the counter. I wondered if he'd overheard our conversation.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The painkiller my father had given me was kicking in. The throbbing in my arm started to ease. But my brain was racing. The man who had attacked me believed that Nick had the missing coins. He'd threatened me because he wanted me to deliver a message to Nick. The more I thought about it, the more questions I had.

My attacker knew that I knew Nick. But except for two short visits to his aunt's house, I hadn't been anywhere near Nick in three months. Had the guy been following me? Or had someone told him that I knew Nick?

And what made my attacker so sure Nick had the coins? I thought about what the man had said—tell him to hand them over. Over to whom? And the really big question: what could—or should—I do about it?

I waited until the loft was silent, then got up and crept into my dad's office.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the room filled with light. Nick sat up, his hand on the switch of the lamp beside the couch. He was wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a T-shirt. His hair, still too long, was disheveled. His purple-blue eyes burned into mine.

“What are you doing in here?” he said.

“We have to talk.”

The look on his face was one of purposeful indifference—Nick telling me that he didn't care about me or anything to do with me.

“Your boyfriend has a nice car,” he said. “Let me guess. He's loaded, right?”

“His family is well off, if that's what you mean.”

He looked down at my hand. “Nice ring too,” he said. “How much do you figure that set him back?”

“I didn't ask.”

“Of course not. That wouldn't be polite, would it?” He switched off the light. I heard him settle back down on the couch.

“The man who attacked me,” I said quietly into the darkness, “he told me to give you a message.”

For a moment it was silent in the room. Then the room filled with light again. Nick peered at me.

“What message?”

“He grabbed me, Nick. He put a hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream. Then he wrenched my arm back and said, ‘Tell your boyfriend to hand over the coins.' He said you knew what to do with them. He said if you didn't . . .” I shuddered as I remembered his words.

“If I didn't, what?”

“Someone would get hurt.”

“Why didn't you tell your dad that?”

So he had been listening to us. “The police think you stole those coins. So does Mr. Schuster's family. If I told the police what that man said, it would only make them more convinced that you did it. I wanted to talk to you first. I want to know what's going on.”

“The guy your dad saw on the security video,” Nick said. “The one who slammed into me. I think he could be the same guy who hurt you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Right after I met up with Mr. Schuster and Isobel, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I started to turn around to see what the problem was. A man whispered in my ear. He said if I didn't deliver the coins, someone was going to pay.”

“Deliver them?”

“He told me where to take them.”

“Where?”

“What difference does it make?”

Was he kidding? “We could leave them there—”

Nick's eyes drilled into mine. “I don't have the coins, Robyn.”

“Nick, if you took them for any reason, maybe to keep them safe from Elliot—”

“I didn't. I'm really sorry about what happened to Mr. Schuster and to you, but I don't know why that man thinks I have those coins. I never touched them.”

Now that we were face-to-face, now that I was looking into his eyes, I knew he was telling me the truth.

“I'm sorry. I thought—”

“I know what you thought.”

I was pretty sure he didn't, but I didn't think he would believe me if I told him.

“As long as he thinks you have them, maybe we can find out who he is,” I said. “We could leave a package where he said. Then we could watch and see who picks it up, see if it's the same person who attacked me and pushed you.”

“But you told your dad you didn't see the guy.”

“I didn't. But you did, on the escalator.”

He shook his head. “I started to turn around, but he told me not to. He told me to listen. I didn't get a look at him. And I saw that security video from the mall. You can't see the guy's face or his hair or anything. You can't even tell he was talking to me.”

“Still,” I said, “if we drop off the coins and someone picks them up, that has to prove something.”

“Right,” he said. “We drop a package that doesn't contain the stolen coins in a garbage can—”

“A garbage can?”

“That's what he said. It's a garbage can in the park. And some guy picks it up and, if anyone asks him, claims he was just picking through the garbage or something and found a package that doesn't even contain any coins. What will that prove?”

I hated to admit it, but he was right. We wouldn't be any further ahead. And if we told the police why we were doing it, it could make things worse for Nick.

“Why did he push you, Nick?”

“He said he wanted me to understand that he was serious about what he was saying.”

“My attacker said the same thing. And you have no idea who he was?”

“None.”

“How would he have known you'd be at the mall? Were you followed? Have you noticed anyone hanging around your aunt's house?”

He shook his head.

“Did you tell the police what he said?”

“What do you think, Robyn?”

I sat down on the couch next to him.

“Nick, I need you to be honest with me.”

He stiffened a little. “I've always been honest with you.”

“That's not how I remember it.”

“Okay, maybe we got off to a bad start. But after what happened in Chinatown, I promised myself—no more lies. Not to you.”

I was sitting so close to him that I could feel his breath on my neck. I ached to touch him.

“Nick, how did some of the coins end up in your backpack?”

I thought he would get angry, but he didn't. “I don't know,” he said.

I searched his eyes. He didn't blink or look away.

“I believe you,” I said. I hesitated to ask more questions, but I had to know. “Someone saw you lurking around Mr. Schuster's house the day the coins were stolen . . .”

“I wasn't lurking. I wanted to see if Orion was okay.”

“My dad says you also don't have an alibi for when it happened. Where were you the night of the break-in?”

His eyes shifted to the floor.

“You said no more lies, Nick.”

He got up and walked to the door. For a moment I thought he was going to walk out. Instead, he pointed up—to the skylight above the dining area.

“I was up there,” he said.

“You were on the roof?”

He nodded.

“What were you doing up there?”

“You were sitting at the table practically the whole night with your computer,” he said softly. “For a while, you were on the Internet. It looked like maybe you were researching an assignment. After that, you did a lot of typing. Then you pulled a book out of your backpack and just kind of zoned out. I couldn't tell what you were reading—the way you were sitting, your head was in the way. But I noticed you didn't turn any pages.”

My cheeks burned. Ben had been at a family dinner that night. Billy and Morgan were out. So I'd spent a Friday night doing my homework—well, doing some homework. When Nick had seen me looking at that book, I hadn't been reading. I'd been staring at a photograph—of Nick and me.

“You were watching me that night?” I said.

“A couple of other nights too.”

“Why?”

He shifted uneasily but didn't answer.

“We should tell my dad,” I said. “And the police. You couldn't have robbed Mr. Schuster if you were up on the roof all that time.”

He turned and went back to the couch where he'd been sleeping. What was the matter with him?

“Don't you get it, Nick? You do have an alibi. They'll have to believe you.”

“What alibi?” he said. “I have an ex-girlfriend who didn't even see me that night. The same ex-girlfriend who's up to her eyeballs in this thing. She's come to see me a couple of times. She's been walking Mr. Schuster's dog. She was at the mall when I supposedly pushed Mr. Schuster. And as soon as her dad bails me out, she suddenly comes forward and says she was doing exactly what I described her doing that night.” He shook his head. “If I was a cop, I wouldn't believe it. I'd think that you were lying to help me. Wouldn't you?”

“But if you're telling the truth . . .”

“They won't believe me. And they won't believe you.”

He was right again, as much as I didn't want to admit it. I wished I had looked up that night. I wished I'd seen him.

“My dad will believe me,” I said.

Nick made a face. “If it's all the same to you, I'd rather he didn't know. It's not going to convince the cops I'm innocent, and it will only make your dad think I'm some kind of stalker.”

“But—”

“Please, Robyn. He's been good to me. I don't want to jeopardize that.”

Reluctantly, I agreed—for the time being.

“That doesn't change the fact that I know what I was doing that night and that you couldn't have described it if you hadn't seen me.” If I'd had any doubts left, they were all gone. There was no way Nick had anything to do with Mr. Schuster's missing coin collection.

Nick was silent for a minute. “Robyn?” His voice was soft again. “Is it serious with that guy?”

“You mean Ben?”

He winced at the name.

“Why did you wait so long to call me, Nick?” It had taken him nearly two months. He had left me a garbled voice mail message. I hadn't been able to make out a phone number where I could reach him. “And why didn't you call me back after you left that message?”

“You know how it is. Stuff happens. Things didn't work out the way I expected. At first I couldn't call you. Then—” He shrugged. “Then I didn't want to.”

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered. I turned for the door. Nick grabbed my hand to stop me. It was the first time he'd touched me since he'd disappeared. He looked at me for a moment. Then he dropped my hand.

“I ran into a little trouble,” he said. “But I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to think I was a total screw-up. I thought I'd sort things out and call when I was in the clear. I guess I should have known it wasn't going to work out when you didn't even try to get in touch with me—”

“Get in touch with you?”

“Then I left you that message, and you still didn't call back. I should have figured you'd found someone else. I mean, why wouldn't you?” He shook his head. “I must have been crazy to think you'd want to be with me. I saw you with that guy, Robyn. I saw him put that ring on your finger.”