Midnight Games (7 page)

I saw the smile fade from Shark's face. He lurched over to break it up.

But I didn't care. I'd heard enough. No way I was going to sit there and pretend it wasn't all about me.

I turned and ran. Ran down the long bar, pushed open the front door, and darted out into the cold, clear night.

Breathing hard. My heart pounding. I watched my breath puff up in front of me. And I cried out loud to the empty street, “What am I going to do about Ada?”

16

Saturday night a fog settled over
Fear Lake, giving it an eerie, dreamlike feel. Pale rays of moonlight poked through the billowing fog, making dappled spots over the ice.

It was my turn to keep an eye on Jamie's little brother Danny for a few hours. So the skating party was underway by the time I arrived.

Some kids had set up tents at the edge of the frozen lake. They were serving hot chocolate from big, silver urns, and I saw cans of soda and beer stacked in another tent. A small bonfire sent up orange and yellow flames into the foggy sky.

A guy I recognized from school stood behind two turntables and a pair of loudspeakers. He must have had a portable generator. His
music blasted out over the voices of kids skating, clustered in couples and groups, and huddled near the tents.

It hadn't snowed yet this fall, but the lake appeared frozen solid, and the ground along the shore was crunchy and hard. Chunks of frost crinkled under my boots.

I wore two sweaters under my parka, a long, striped scarf around my neck, and a wool ski cap pulled down over my ears, but I still shivered from the frigid, damp air.

“Hey, Dana—yo!”

I turned and saw Jamie standing with Lewis at the edge of the ice. I hurried over to them.

I had Jamie's skates slung over my shoulder. Jamie couldn't use them because her hip and leg weren't recovered enough to skate.

“Nate was looking for you,” Lewis said. He pointed with his soda can to a group of kids huddled under a tree, singing along at the top of their voices with the DJ's cranked-up music.

I recognized Nate. He motioned for me to join him.

Jamie squinted at me. “You're here with Nate?”

I just waved my hand. I didn't answer. I
turned and half-ran, half-slid over to Nate and his friends. As I drew closer, I recognized Shark and Nikki, and Aaron and Galen. They all waved and called out to me.

I slid right into Nate. Laughing, he caught me around the waist. He held on to me for a little while, which I didn't mind at all.

“Are we having fun yet?” Shark asked.

The fog swirled around us. Circles of yellow moonlight slid over the frozen lake. It was hard to see where the shore ended and the lake began.

“Dana, want a beer?” Nate reached for a six-pack beside him on the ground.

“No thanks,” I said. I swung Jamie's skates off my shoulder. “You just going to stand here drinking beer? I thought we were going to skate.”

“Some of us came for the beer,” Shark said.

Nikki gave him a hard shove. “You promised we'd skate. You told me you're a killer skater. You said you made the state hockey finals last year.”

Aaron and Galen tossed back their heads and laughed.

“I'm totally shocked,” Nate said. “Shark
never
lied before!”

More laughter.

“Maybe I exaggerated about my skating a little,” Shark confessed.

Nikki glared at him. “Tell the truth. Have you ever been on ice skates?”

Shark hesitated. He grinned at Nikki. “Do they go on your feet, or what?”

Nikki gave him another shove.

“Hey, I can still skate better than Nate,” Shark told her.

“No way,” Nate said. “Want to make a bet on it?”

“Can't we just skate for fun and party tonight without any bets?” I asked, leaning against Nate.

“What do you want to bet?” Shark asked Nate, ignoring me. “How about the rest of that beer?”

He grabbed the can from Nate's hand, tilted it to his mouth, and drained it. “See? I won the bet already!”

Nikki shook her head at Shark. “How not funny are you?”

He kissed her. “You love it,” he said.

“Well, I'm putting on my skates,” I told Nate. “Are you coming with me?”

He nodded.

I pulled him to a bench at the edge of the lake. We strapped on our skates, watching kids already on the ice. They appeared to float through the swirls of fog.

Couples skated together in graceful circles. One guy took a running jump, dove forward, and went sliding headfirst at full speed over the ice into a group of girls.

They scattered, squealing and laughing.

“That's Dan Nickerson,” Nate told me. “He does that every year.”

“Cute,” I said.

Nate pulled me to my feet, and we skated out onto the lake. We made wide circles at first, skating slowly. I hadn't been on ice skates in years, but it quickly came back to me.

Nate was a pretty good skater. But he kept grabbing my hand to steady his balance. We were far out on the lake. At least, it seemed far out. Squinting through the fog, I could barely see the tents and the kids on the shore.

Nate grabbed my gloved hand and held on. We slowed to a stop. He pulled me close and kissed me. I kissed him back. I let him know I was enjoying it.

How long did we kiss?

I don't know. I pulled away from him when I heard someone shouting my name. Breathless, I turned and saw Jamie running across the ice toward us.

She was limping and sliding, waving her arms to keep her balance. “Dana? Is that you?” she called.

I broke away from Nate and took a few sliding steps toward her. “Jamie, what's wrong?”

“Ada,” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. She bent over, pressing her hands on her knees.

“What about Ada?” Nate asked.

“She's here,” Jamie said, pointing to the shore. “She's looking for you, Dana. She found out you're here with Nate.”

I squinted at her. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, she's out of control. So mad!” Jamie said. “I just wanted to warn you.”

“Oh, wow,” I muttered.

Jamie limped away, shaking her head.

I saw a blur of movement to her left. Through the curtain of fog, I recognized Ada, bent low, skating fast.

Nate shook his head angrily. “Forget it,” he said. “I don't need this.”

“But, wait—,” I protested. “Don't leave me here.” My heart started to pound in my chest.

He skated off, head down, taking long strides.

“That's not fair!” I shouted.

Ada came roaring toward me. She wore layers of sweaters over tight jeans. Her long scarf flew behind her like a flag.

“Ada—stop!” I cried.

“You can't have him!” she shouted. “You can't come here and ruin my life!”

Sobbing, she bumped me hard. I toppled backward. But she grabbed me and held me up.

“Ada—please!”

She grabbed my shoulders and started to shake me.

“Let go! Let go!” I screamed, struggling to squirm away.

But she lowered her gloved hands and curled them around my throat. “You can't! You can't!” she uttered.

“Ada—
stop
!” I pleaded as her fingers tightened. I suddenly felt dizzy. I couldn't breathe.

“Stop! You're
choking
me!”

17

I opened my eyes. I blinked a few times,
trying to focus.

I felt so dizzy. My ears rang.

Had I blacked out or something?

I took a deep breath and gazed around. I was sitting on the ice, with my legs spread. My throat ached. My heart pounded hard.

I shut my eyes again. Why did I feel so wiped? So weak, I couldn't raise my arms?

When I opened my eyes again, I could see kids skating toward me, their faces hidden in the thickening fog. I heard shouts, but I couldn't understand the words.

Confused, I tried to pull myself up. But I sank back onto the ice, my head spinning.

What
happened
to me?

Jamie's voice broke through the ringing in
my ears. I felt her gloved hand on my shoulder. I turned and gazed up into her worried face.

“Dana, we heard screams. Where's Ada?”

Huh? Ada?

Jamie turned away from me. Her mouth dropped open, and she squeezed my shoulder so hard, I gasped.

I turned to see what she was staring at. And uttered a sharp cry.

Ada?

Yes. Stretched out on her back on the ice.

Ada . . . Ada in a dark pool of blood.

Ada with an ice skate . . . the blade . . . the blade . . . driven into her head. Standing straight up. Poking out from between her open, glassy eyes.

Without realizing it, I jumped to my feet.

I saw Jamie's accusing stare.

I raised my gloved hands to the sides of my face and I started to scream: “I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I didn't do it . . . !”

Part Three

18

I've had some hard times lately, with my
mom dying and my dad deciding he didn't want me to live with him. And some other painful stuff.

But the next three days were a total nightmare, the worst days of my life.

The Shadyside police showed up about ten minutes after we saw Ada's body. You can imagine the screams of horror and crying and wailing that went on when the other kids all came skating out to take a look at her. And the cold, accusing stares I got.

Every kid there thought I was a murderer.

Including Nate and Jamie, I'm sure.

At least, Jamie stood by me. I don't remember seeing Nate. He simply disappeared.

Anyway, the police took me to their precinct
station in the Old Village. They called Jamie's parents. Her dad is a lawyer, thank goodness.

We all sat around a beat-up, metal table in a tiny, gray room. Everyone grim and yellow-faced under harsh fluorescent ceiling lights.

Jamie's mother kept her eyes down. She wouldn't look at me. Mr. Richards squeezed my hand and whispered that I didn't have to answer any questions I didn't want to.

“I-I'll answer what I can,” I stammered.

Two police officers—a man and a woman—questioned me for hours. I told them everything I could.

The last thing I remembered was Ada leaping on me and choking me. I told them I remembered the feeling of her wool gloves, scratchy on my neck. How she tightened her fingers around my throat. How she cut off my windpipe.

I couldn't breathe.

I pleaded with her to let go.

That's all. Nothing more to tell.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting up on the ice, feeling dazed. My head felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, and my eyes wouldn't focus.

I must have blacked out because Ada cut off my air. She tried to choke me to death. I tried to get away. I tried to free myself.

But I didn't fight back. And I didn't kill her.

We went over and over the whole thing. I think the two officers wanted to trick me into changing my story. Or they thought maybe I'd break down and confess.

They checked my neck. And yes, there were red bruises at my throat, just as I'd said.

I had tears streaming down my cheeks. I kept drinking cup after cup of water. My hands shook. I clasped them tightly in my lap and stared across the table at the two cops.

I looked straight into their eyes. I wanted to convince them I was telling the truth.

And finally, I raised my trembling hands. “Look at my hands,” I said. “Look at my arms. I don't work out or anything. Look how skinny I am. I'm not strong enough to shove a skate blade through someone's skull. No way.”

I held my arms up, and they stared at them. Studied them. I think maybe it helped convince them.

“I was being choked to death,” I told them.
“I couldn't breathe. I couldn't fight her off. How could I unlace her skate and drive it through her head?”

“I think we're going to end this now,” Jamie's dad said. “Are you going to charge Dana?”

The two officers whispered to each other. Then they left the room.

I turned to Jamie's mom. Mrs. Richards had a handkerchief pressed to her face. I couldn't see her expression.

Mr. Richards patted my hand. “I think they believe you,” he murmured. “Did you see anyone else around? Do you know of someone else who had a grudge against Ada or might want to see her dead?”

I stared at him. I'd already answered those questions for the police officers. “No. I don't remember anyone,” I said again.

He nodded. “Dana, have you had blackouts before?” he asked.

“No one ever tried to strangle me before,” I answered.

But I suddenly remembered that strange, woozy feeling I'd had at the top of the stairs at Jamie's party. I felt so weird that night, as if I
was blacking out. And the next thing I knew, I was staring down the stairs at Ada, sprawled on the landing on top of all that broken glass.

I didn't mention it to Jamie's dad. But for the first time all night, the question popped quietly into my mind:
Did
I kill Ada?

Did I go into some kind of weird blackout and murder her without even knowing it?

No.

No way.

No. No. No.

The two officers returned to the room, solemn expressions on their faces. I sucked in a deep breath of air. I thought they were going to arrest me.

But instead, they said they were letting me go. For now. They were continuing their investigation. Blah blah.

I didn't hear the rest.

I was so happy they were letting me go home.

Mrs. Richards started to sob. Jamie's dad put his arm around her, trying to comfort her.

Jamie's dad helped me to their car. I felt like a limp noodle. I could barely walk. He was really nice to me, very gentle and soothing.
Mrs. Richards sat in the front seat of the car and didn't say a word the whole way home.

That was three nights ago.