Nowhere to Turn (5 page)

I wasn't exactly eager to put this to the test. But I trusted Nick about Orion, even if I didn't always trust him about other things.

I reached for the doorknob.

“Wait,” Isobel cried from the front hall. “The light switch is just inside the door to the left.”

My knees trembled. My heart hammered. But I forced myself to smile—as if that would convince Orion I wasn't afraid—and opened the door. The barking below grew more frantic. From the landing, stairs continued down into the darkness. I switched on the light. That must have surprised Orion because he was quiet for a moment. Then he started barking louder than ever.

“Hey, Orion,” I said softly. A large piece of plywood had been positioned across the bottom of the stairs. That may have made Elliot Schuster and his family feel safe, but as I crept down toward the barking, I thought about Orion's point of view. Someone had imprisoned him down there, away from his master, away from his regular life. I sure hoped he wouldn't blame me for keeping him locked up.

Roowf-roowf-roowf. . .
blam!

What the—? I froze.

Blam!

Orion was hurling himself against the plywood barrier. I caught a glimpse of his wild yellow eyes. My instinct was to run back up the stairs and slam the door behind me. But I stayed where I was.
Think of Orion
, I told myself.
Think how he must feel
.

I drew in a trembling breath and spoke Orion's name again while I continued down the stairs. When I got close to the barrier, I extended a trembling hand so that he could catch my scent. I prayed that he wouldn't try to take a chunk out of me. He kept barking, but he sounded slightly less frenzied.

“Hey, Orion,” I repeated—soothingly, I hoped. “Hey, boy.” Holding my breath, I did what I had seen Nick do a hundred times before. I let him sniff me. Only after that did I reach over the barrier. My fingers grazed Orion's head and I began to scratch behind his left ear. Nick had said he loved that. He was right. Orion stopped barking.

“Good boy,” I cooed. “Look what I have for you.” I held out the dog biscuit. Orion looked at me, waiting for the signal that Nick always gave him. I nodded. He grabbed the biscuit out of my hand and crunched it. His tail began to wag. “Good dog,” I said, reaching over to scratch behind his ear again. This time he didn't bark. I began to believe that I, the most dog-phobic person I knew, could actually handle this beast.

“Sit,” I said, gently but firmly, like I'd heard Nick do dozens of times.

To my surprise, the big dog plopped down onto his rear end.

I glanced around and saw a leash hanging from a hook on the wall. I grabbed it, leaned over the barricade, and attached it to Orion's collar.

“Stay,” I said. Orion watched me with eager eyes but remained seated as I slid the heavy plywood barrier aside. “Come,” I said. Orion trotted contentedly up the stairs beside me.

Isobel was still in the hall, one hand on the front door handle, planning to bolt from the house at the first sign of danger.

“Do you want to get acquainted?” I said.

She looked warily at Orion. Then she inched toward me.

“Don't be afraid,” I said. “After all, he's your grandfather's dog.” I took one of her hands and held it close to Orion. He sniffed it. “You can pat him if you want to,” I said.

Isobel shook her head and pulled her hand away.

“He'll never get to know you if you don't let him.”

She looked terrified. But after a moment, she reached out again and gingerly touched the top of Orion's head. His tail wagged.

“See?” I said. “He's not so scary.”

Orion roowfed—the sound was as loud and unexpected as a thunderclap. Isobel jumped back.

“Grandpa is upstairs,” she said. “He'll understand what you say, but you might not understand him. His doctor says he's doing really well. But the stroke affected his speech.”

I took off my coat and set down my backpack, keeping a firm grip on Orion. Isobel led the way up the stairs to a bright, sunny bedroom at the front of the house. I had expected to find Mr. Schuster in bed, but instead, he was sitting in an armchair near the window. A walker stood on the floor beside the chair. He smiled when he saw me, but there was something odd about his expression. It took me a moment to figure out what: only one side of his mouth had curled up. The other side hadn't moved at all.

“Look who's here to see you, Grandpa,” Isobel said.

Orion dragged me across the room. I held tight to his leash, afraid that he would jump up on Mr. Schuster. But the big dog seemed to sense that his master wasn't well. He plunked himself down next to Schuster and dropped his massive head onto the old man's knees. Schuster's left hand trembled when he reached out to pat Orion. The dog's tail thumped on the floor. Mr. Schuster looked at me. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Troop Fred seal,” he said.

At least, that's what it sounded like.

CHAPTER
FIVE

“H

e's happy to see Orion,” Isobel said. “Aren't you, Grandpa?”

Mr. Schuster nodded.

“Bit,” he said. “Bit. . . bat. . .” He looked frustrated. Finally, he raised his hand to his face and touched the side of his nose with one finger. His hand shook as he dragged the finger across his cheek. He looked at me intently the whole time, as if he were trying to tell me something. I was almost positive I knew what he meant, but I wasn't sure if I should admit it in front of Isobel.

Isobel picked up a pad of paper from the bedside table, set it on Mr. Schuster's lap, and pressed a pencil into his hand.

“Can you write it, Grandpa?” she said.

I watched Mr. Schuster make a squiggly upward line. The letters he formed were shaky, but I had no trouble reading what he wrote:
Nick?

I glanced at Isobel.

“It's okay,” she said. “I know you know him.”

If that was true and if Nick had done all the things Glen had said he'd done, why had she let me into the house?

“I think he wants to know if you've seen Nick,” Isobel said. “Don't you, Grandpa?”

Mr. Schuster nodded.

“Yes,” I admitted. I looked into Mr. Schuster's watery eyes. “He asked me to check on Orion. He also wanted me to tell you that he didn't do it.”

Schuster formed more letters on his notepad:
Where?

“
Where
is Nick?” I asked. He nodded. “He's staying at his aunt's house until his court date.”

Mr. Schuster sank back in his chair.

“Grandpa's tired,” Isobel said. “He had physical therapy this morning and speech therapy this afternoon. We should let him rest.”

But when I gathered Orion's leash, Schuster grabbed me by the hand. He struggled hard to form just two words. They came out in a trembling whisper, but this time I had no trouble understanding them. He wanted me to come back.

“I will,” I said. “I promise.”

I kept a tight grip on Orion's leash as I followed Isobel out into the hall, but he kept pulling away from me. He seemed to want to go to the back of the house.

“Orion used to sleep in the back bedroom,” Isobel said. “I guess he misses it. My mom and dad are using that room while we're here.”

Orion followed me reluctantly down the stairs but balked at the door to the basement.

“Come on, boy,” I said, giving the leash a gentle tug.

He dug his heels in, growling and barking. I don't know what was going through his doggy mind, but it was clear that he wanted to stay where he was. Isobel backed away.

“See?” she said, her voice trembling. “He doesn't like it down there. But my dad says if he's going to stay, he has to stay in the basement.”

“Orion,
come
,” I said. He refused to move. I turned to Isobel. “There's a bag of dog biscuits in my coat pocket. Can you grab me one?”

She was back in a flash and handed me a biscuit. That got Orion's attention. He leaned toward me, waiting to see if I would give him one. But I didn't. Not yet. I held the biscuit out in front of him and used it to wave him through the basement door and down the stairs. When we reached the bottom, I tossed the biscuit to the farthest end of the concrete floor. Orion looked at me. I nodded curtly. He bounded across the floor. Quickly, I replaced the plywood barrier. Orion didn't seem to notice. I retreated upstairs but left the basement light on for him. Isobel stood waiting in the front hall.

“Is your grandpa going to be okay?” I asked while I pulled on my boots.

“He gets really frustrated when he has trouble talking,” Isobel said.

“That happens to a lot of people who have strokes,” I said. It had happened to my grandmother.

“I know,” Isobel said. “I keep telling him that. We all do. And his doctor says that he's doing great in other ways. Grandpa is really strong. He was able to get out of bed almost right away—with help—and his doctor says that's good. His right side is weak, but his left side is fine. He's already getting around upstairs with a walker. The physical therapist says he'll be ready to tackle the stairs any day now. I know Grandpa can't wait. He hates being cooped up like this. I promised him as soon as the doctor said it was okay, we'd go to the mall and people watch.”

“That's great,” I said. “He's lucky you're here.” I considered my next question carefully as I buttoned my coat. “Isobel, how did you know I know Nick? Did your grandfather tell you that in his e-mails too?”

She shook her head. “He told me about Nick and about you, but he never said anything about the two of you being friends.”

Friends
.

“But upstairs, you said you knew that I knew him.”

“Nick had a picture of you in his backpack. It fell out one day when he was getting ready to take Orion for a walk.”

Nick had been carrying a picture of me? Even after he'd seen Ben and me together?

“I asked him if it was a picture of his girlfriend,” Isobel said. She blushed. “He's so quiet, you know? I was trying to find out if he was seeing anyone.”

I held my breath.

“But he said it was just a picture of someone he knew from the animal shelter. That's how I knew he knew you. Then the next couple of times he came over, another girl came with him. She was kind of dirty-looking, but Nick seemed really friendly with her. Is she his girlfriend?”

“I don't know,” I said. Nick hadn't even said I was a friend. I was just “someone he knew.”

“I thought he was nice,” Isobel said. “And I know Grandpa likes him. He told me he'd hired him as a dog walker. He said Nick was really smart.”

“Is that all he said?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he tell you anything about Nick's past?”

“You mean that he'd been in trouble before?” She shook her head. “My dad was really mad when he found out that Grandpa let Nick into the house even though he knew that he had a record.”

Isobel walked me to the door.

“You told Grandpa that Nick said he didn't take those coins,” she said. “Do you believe that?”

“I know he isn't a thief,” I said.

“But the police said—”

“I know it looks bad, Isobel. But I also know Nick. He likes your grandfather. He respects him. I can't believe that he would steal from him.”

Isobel looked doubtful.

“What does your grandfather think?” I asked.

“I know he's upset that his coins are missing. They were important to him. He's been a collector forever. At first my dad didn't want to tell him about the theft—Grandpa was in the hospital when it happened. But he needed Grandpa to sign some papers for the insurance, so he had to. I was there when he did. I saw the look on his face. He was so sad when my dad told him what the police had said.” She looked at me. “My dad says Nick had probably been waiting for the opportunity to steal from Grandpa.”

I could see how someone might think that—someone who didn't know Nick, like Isobel's father, or someone who had a low opinion of him, like Glen. But that didn't make them right. I pulled on my mittens and reached for the doorknob. I had delivered Nick's message. I had checked on Orion. But I hadn't learned any more than Beej's DVD had already told me. I turned back to Isobel. There was one more thing I needed to know—for me this time, not for Nick.

“I heard that Nick got into some kind of argument with your mother. Is that true?”

Isobel nodded.

“Grandpa was really upset about that too,” she said. “Nick came over to the house after he got out on bail the first time. Grandpa had just got home from the hospital. My mom was here with him. Nick said he wanted to talk to him, but my mom wouldn't let him in the house. She told him to go away, but he barged into the house anyway. When she tried to stop him, he hit her.”

My heart sank. Nick sometimes had trouble controlling his temper, but he'd made a lot of progress with that. I didn't want to believe that he would hit anyone, let alone Mr. Schuster's daughter-in-law. I wished I understood what was going on with him. I wished there was something I could do to make all this trouble go away.